Team Hot Wheels - Disquiet
by Ashla Ice
Summary: Things spiral out of control and off the guardrails when a silver racer consistently attacks and evades the team, making their lives more miserable each time. All the while, Brandon is faced with the hardest decision of his life, which could change so much for his loyal leader, best friend, and metaphorical younger brother. [TEAM HOT WHEELS Fanfic! Now complete.]
1. Chapter I - Day Fourteen

Ello, Ashla here.

Team Hotwheels has become one of many guilty pleasures, children's shows, that has pulled me in... Something lighthearted and happy after the trauma RWBY Volume III and Star Wars Rebels Season II put me through...

I've watched all three Team Hotwheels movies, and I shamefully love them all. My favorite is Origin of Awesome, but the other two are awesome too. As much as I usually hate those narcissistic, "mememe" characters, Wyatt's earned a place in my heart (also received some awesome character development in Build the Epic Race, so hopefully in future installments he'll be better.) I also love Brandon, he's the cynic and critic in all of us! And his smiles are adorable. I will say, out if all the characters in this fanfic, he's proven to be the hardest to write for me. It's hard to balance his no nonsense, does-not-care persona with the possible more caring side I show him with in here. (I've already written up to chapter 12.) Rhett's like a cute cherry tomato (and slayer of big tomatoes in Skills to Thrill) and he's totally like "being normal is boring." I do think the show's crew butchered his character in Skills to Thrill, making him a clueless idiot instead of the hyper, clumsy, but still intelligent and even clever kid seen in the other two movies. Outside StT he's just so lovable! Not to mention his puns! Love 'em! As for Gage, I do think they stepped up his game in Skills to Thrill with his less cool side ("our cars have been dorc-ed!" Priceless!) but he's mostly shown as a chill, confident kid with an addiction to speed. Unlike the other three, he just... Doesn't spike up as much interest to me... This does not mean I don't like him though, Gage is indeed adorable! So yeah...

Unfortunately, TCW and SWR genius Dave Filoni is pretty much my role model in any forms of story telling (I still remember the Clone Wars crew talking about how they introduced new characters just to kill them off back in season two. "Show up and blow up" they called it) so we've actually got a pretty dark fanfiction you've run into. As much as I'm trying to keep the original THW spirit, this series is going to be more serious and just plain angsty. Not to mention intense explosions, occasional blood, tears, car crashes, tears, car crashes, tears, tears... So yeah, this is rated T for a reason. This is part of a series of three (or more) fanfics, "Disquiet," "Discord," and "Decode" (and maybe more.) All four members have their own subplots and moments of distinct focus, although Disquiet has a slightly stronger focus on Brandon than the rest.

In case you are wondering, several OCs (as much as I'm usually against OCs, they either are done with absolute perfection or are a heap of crap) will be popping up, and many can drive. I will be easter egging several Hot Wheels cars for these distinct drivers, including the silver driver described in the fanfic's description. He is driving a grey/ silver Circle Tracker.

So... That's it. Happy (or angsty) reading! :)

~ Ashla

* * *

Congratulations, you've built your empire  
Your guardians chosen, you still conspire  
You pull all strings, even on government leads  
Your quest for power is done

You sit back and laugh, you've reached this at last  
And disguise it as charity  
You made this place great, you must be a saint  
You must of forgotten about me

You ran from your past, you never looked back  
You buried your wrongs below  
Well now I'm coming back, on the terms that  
You could dare forget about me, oh so bold

Thirteen long years  
Bathing in blood and drowning in tears  
Thirteen long years  
Your victims still cry and die

Thirteen long years  
You can try to fight back  
Thirteen long years  
This is what you get for your twisted past

Contradictions to what you inspire  
Innocent children protect a fading fire  
You pulled the strings, bit the hand that feeds  
And now they will mournfully bleed

I sit back and laugh, you get it at last  
Your disguise will fail, they will see  
With all of this hate, I will make them break  
They will pay for your own dirty deeds

Your victims still wait in the mess you made  
More than a decade ago  
I will lend them my hand, and vengeance's chant  
Will lead their defenses to hold

Thirteen long years  
Bathing in blood and drowning in tears  
Thirteen long years  
Your victims will surely rise

Thirteen long years  
You have lost this fight fast  
Thirteen long years  
This is what you get for your hidden past

Your plan has failed  
Your knights will not prevail  
Darkness will fall  
And massacre them all

Your prey become predators  
And this is what they starve for  
The taste of your blood like you drank their's  
And the world becomes aware

And the green eyed monster will be there

Thirteen long years  
Bathing in blood and drowning in tears  
Thirteen long years  
Your victims are posed to strike

Thirteen long years  
We are all that you have ever feared  
Thirteen long years  
Your victims cry...

"We have survived and you cannot hide"  
And I shall see you fade at last  
"You won't survive, it's the end of the line"  
This is what you get for your now exposed past

* * *

The bright sunlight, the cloudless blue sky. It was the first thing he opened his eyes to. Several tanagers, so high up, flew across it. Rocking, tempting him to fall back asleep again, caused green eyes to close for a moment. -Wait, what was that? Was that... a voice? A very distant voice. A cry, a scream, a discouraged moan, another shout. He heard his name desperately called out. Begging for signs of life. He recognized that voice instantly.

As much as his head pounded with pain, he sat up. His clouded vision adjusted, he recognized the... glove box of the passenger side of his vehicle? Everything around his own body, in the seat, from old pictures to spare change, was scattered. They had fallen from their perches above. This could only mean one thing... his vehicle was on its side.

His eyes widened, he snapped back into reality.

His truck felt suspended, like it was being held in midair. It was swaying back and forth unstably, like it was ready to fall again. He lifted his hand to his helmet, pressing the comn button. He finally answered that voice's cries. "Brandon?"

His friend's relieved cry was his reward. None the less, he was still confused, "Brand-Oh, what's goin' on?"

The reply made his stomach fly up to his chest, "Your truck is basically in midair, swinging by its tow cable at the side of this lot's fifth floor on the side that is to the ocean. You could fall any second!"

He shook his head, "Nope!"

Another voice, surprised, cut through the comn channel, "'Nope'?!"

He smirked, jumping up to the front and opening the side window, "Nope! How does it look up there? Can I climb out?"

"What?!" That voice exclaimed.

Brandon actually answered his question, "The only person there right now is Rhett. Gage and I are on the way now!"

Without second thought, he pressed the comn again, "Rhe-"

The sound of metal smashing interrupted his questions, "-Kin-kinda busy, Wyatt!"

More smashing sounded, then Rhett spoke again, "Gage, out of all the times you can't go fast enough-"

"-We're coming as fast as we can!" Gage retorted.

Wyatt sighed, turning the comn off, "Oh, 'fergit it, if 'ya need somethin' done right..." He pulled himself out of the window. His long, black hair hung suspended many feet above pounding waves. Muscles tense, Wyatt refused to look down. He simply climbed carefully to the trunk of his vehicle.

* * *

*Crash!*

The sound of tires screeching made his ears ring. He gritted his teeth, reversing as he kept his hazel eyes locked on his opponent. A silver car glistened in the sunshine as it raced towards him. Moments later, Rhett was struggling in another bumper lock. His hot rod was actually in worse condition than that silver vehicle. He revved and backed away. He could tell this mystery driver was attempting a push him away from his teammate. He needed to think fast. His heart pounded, blood warming his ears, as he revved again.

The silver car revved in return.

Rhett smirked.

The redhead slammed the pedal, speeding towards the vehicle. It was like jousting, two riders racing to spear each other. It wasn't quite what the silver rider was expecting though - Rhett was playing chicken. The crimson hot rod slipped right past the silver sports car at the last moment. No time to celebrate though, as the unpredictable redhead leapt from his vehicle. He tumble rolled onto the ground, adrenaline bursting, then took no time to rest as he ran over to the tow cable of Wyatt's truck.

Almost there, he was suddenly stopped when a hand grabbed his shoulder. An unfamiliar, raspy voice snarled, "Not so fast..."

Tears threatened to fall from Rhett's eyes, he whispered, "No!"

He was thrown against silver's car, pain exploding, as he fell on his tush. He looked over the person who had yanked him away. A slim young man, about his age, dressed in shiny grey. His helmet's black glass hid his face. Rhett, a black belt in karate, jumped up in attempts to somehow get past him. His attempt to get past him only received a heavy punch in the gut. Hazel eyes widened, the last thing they saw was an iron gloved fist.

A hand slapped the concrete, exhausted gasps for air escaping his burning lungs as he hoisted himself. Climbing how many feet on nothing but a metal coil took the stunt man's wind out of him.

But what he saw made his blood boil.

Rhett unconsciously fell to the ground. His teammate acted immediately, running up to the unidentified person and slamming his fist against his head. The silver boy flew against his own sports vehicle, falling unconscious himself.

 _So, this is that racer we've been chasing for two weeks straight..._ he smirked for a moment, _Not so tough outside your car, eh?_

His smile faded away though, he bent down and checked on his fallen teammate. "Rhett?"

The sound of two more cars pulling up barely registered. Wyatt pulled Rhett into his arms and checked his pulse. It was strong. The stunt man sighed in relief as footsteps grew closer.

"Guys!" Gage shouted in a worried tone.

Always professional, Brandon pulled a glove off and checked Rhett's vital signs. After several moments, he smiled, "He'll be okay, thank goodness..."

The other two sighed in relief. Gage's smile widened as he walked past them, "Hey, Wyatt, I think you got him!"

Green knelt down to the silver driver.

Wyatt smiled proudly, "I sure did!"

Gage lifted a hand, reaching for his helmet, "Okay, time to see who you really are..."

Unfortunately, that would have to wait. Whoever he was had quickly recovered, lifting a leg and kicking Gage back. He then managed to quickly climb into his car and speed away.

As Gage recovered from the wind sucking kick to the chest, the other two conscious members of the team watched their opponent drive off. "Whoops."

Brandon rolled his eyes, "Rhett doesn't need a hospital run, just enough time to wake up. And maybe some Tylenol."

"So back 'ta the base?" Wyatt asked.

Their green leader sighed, "Sure."


	2. Chapter II - Growing Storm

**A/N:**

 **I feel like I butchered Brandon's character so bad in this one! Argh! Bu anyways, here's chapter two. A little classic banter between Gage and Wyatt in this one xD**

 **Pleas tell me Brandon wasn't _too_ out of character... Pwease?**

 **~ Ashla**

* * *

The first thing that he consciously registered was the exploding pain in his head. He then realized he recognized that other feeling... only one couch in the world had a spring _that_ pointy.

"Ow..." Rhett moaned.

"Well, look who's up!"

Hazel eyes opened to meet with brown. Rhett sighed, rubbing his eyes, "What happened?"

"You don't remember?" Gage asked, concern crossing his face, "... Don't tell me you had another concussion..."

 _That_ incident from his early childhood, all starting with a concussion, crossed his mind. Rhett shook his head and sat up, throwing his matted blanket off, "I'm sure I'm fine."

After another moment of grogginess, Rhett smiled one of those usual, bright and cheerful smiles, "I'm great!" His smile flew off his face, eyes widening as he suddenly remembered, "Wait, Wyatt!"

"That's the name!"

From the kitchen, the stunt man walked in munching an apple. "Everyone's good, man, no worries!"

Rhett smiled, "Good!... 'Cause that was a close one."

Gage nodded, "This guy's been gritting our nerves for weeks now."

Wyatt sat down on the other side of the couch, "And we don't know nothin' 'bout him." He took another bite of apple, slurping sloppily as juice ran down his hand and towards his elbow.

Gage sighed, "We should have caught him by now, but he somehow - just-..."

"-He keeps getting away and gritting our nerves simultaneously... _Really_ nerve grittin'..."

Rhett, as usual, chose the worst time to crack a joke, "Is that why I found the gym equipment turned over the other day?"

Wyatt stammered, "-But- that was-"

Rhett's grin widened, "I mean, you certainly know how to wrack up a wy-iot."

" **WHY, RHETT, WHYYYY!?** " Green and Yellow cried at once. Wyatt threw his apple core at the beaming redhead.

Rhett just laughed like a little child. As the youngest fell back in his seat crying, Gage sighed, "Uh, yeah, I think he's okay."

Just then, the sound of a door opening caused all three to turn to see Brandon rushing to the front door, his phone in his hand. The blond teen stuffed his phone in his pocket, grabbing his trench coat, "Gotta go, guys!"

"Where you going?" Gage asked.

Wyatt raised an amused eyebrow at his best friend, "Another long, boring lecture?"

Brandon buttoned up his coat, "You're the one who thinks they're boring. Even if it's from HER, I find the scientifically backed company speeches educating."

Wyatt rolled his eyes, "Not like you work there..."

"Someday I will," Brandon retorted, "Someday... Obviously..."

Wyatt sighed, then saluted him "Well, good luck not 'fallin asleep."

Brandon smirked, "No worries." Then the child wonder noticed Rhett was watching the whole conversation. A brief hint of a smile crossed his face, "You okay, Rhett?"

Rhett just nodded.

Brandon curtly nodded in return and turned to the door, "Good. Gotta go, bye!"

And he left.

A moment of silence swept through the garage.

Gage sighed, "Guess we can't go over the projection board until tomorrow..."

Wyatt let his head fall back, "Fine with me."

Rhett bit his lip, looking at the door in thought. After a moment or so, he then looked at Wyatt, "Hey, bud?"

The southerner looked at him.

Rhett rubbed his neck, "Um, I didn't cause any trouble back there, did I?"

The car chase across the parking lot building crossed their minds. Wyatt smiled and threw his arm, "Nah, if anyone caused trouble it was me. Y'know, falling over the edge like that..."

Rhett smiled shyly, "Thanks, dude."

Gage stood up, "Why don't you guys head home? It's late enough in the day."

"Wait, what time is it?" A clueless Rhett asked.

Wyatt looked up to Gage from the couch, "'Ya sure you don't need any help 'round here?"

The Hispanic teen shook his head, "You guys need your strength. I can handle it."

"You've been pulling these all nighters since Larry left." Rhett pointed out, "C'mon, man, let us help."

Gage stubbornly shook his head, "No. As your leader this is my duty."

Wyatt facepalmed. He stammered for a moment, raised his hands, then just got up and left the room.

Rhett rolled his eyes, but with a smile on his face. Since getting over their rivalry and actually becoming friends, he and Gage were avoiding serious arguments at just about all costs. Rhett looked back at their leader. As much as he was thankful for Gage's protectiveness over the group, especially Wyatt and Rhett who were the two younger members, he was taking it too far this time. Yes, Larry leaving suddenly for some type of top scientist convention (Brandon's uncle had gone too) was stressful when some psycho driver was loose. However, Gage suddenly going crazy with his sudden increase of responsibility worried him. Both as his teammate and as his best friend, Rhett had to talk to him.

"Gage, buddy," Rhett stood up to his level. For a moment, lightheadedness almost threatened to make him fall. Hardheaded and naive though, Rhett got past his moment of nausea. He looked his childhood friend right in the eyes, "You've been doing an incredible job. We need your guidance and it's awesome you're doing so well. But thing is, you shouldn't be pushing yourself too far."

Gage just shrugged. His usual, smug, 'I'm awesome' face was there. He waved his hand, "Nah, man, I'm powered up."

Wyatt shouted from the other room. "-Says the guy who forgot his turning signals three times, passed red lights seven times, accidentally honked from head-butting the steering wheel once, and breaked in an interstate twice!"

"Shut up, man, those were all in the morning! My coffee wasn't settled in!" Gage shouted back.

Rhett interrupted before a fight could break out, "Gage, listen, you're wearing yourself out."

Gage stuffed his hands in his pockets, relaxed, "I'm good, Rhett."

"You've been drinking five mugs a day - of black! You never drink that many cups. And never with black!"

Gage sighed, dropping his cool posture, putting a hand on his buddy's shoulder, "Rhett, don't worry about me. I'm fine."

Rhett sighed, "Fine..."

The sound of another door opening caused them to turn again. Wyatt was throwing his raincoat on, "'Kay, I'm out. Got a pot of coffee started for 'ya, Gage. All 'ya need to do is wait, then put cream and sugar in."

A thankful smile crossed Gage's face, "Thanks, dude."

He smirked and left the building. Gage gave Rhett's shoulder a light swat, "You too, buddy. Go hit the hay."

Rhett just had to try one more time, "You sure you don't need any help?"

Gage nodded, one of his overconfident smirks forming, "Don't worry. I got this."

Rhett felt guilty taking that as an answer, but he knew arguing at this point was futile. "Okay. If you need anything, just ask, bro." And he headed on out.

* * *

Another convention was dismissed.

Brandon still worked on his notes. He finished writing down anything he didn't think to back then, checked his mechanics, all that fun stuff. After that, he tucked his notebook between his arm and side and stood up. He looked around the stadium, posters for the _LeBay Scientific Institute and Research Lab_ plastered all over the place. He spotted a young woman in the crowd, talking to a group of people next to the stage. Her long, blond hair and glasses were unforgettable to him. In her mid thirties, she was scrawny yet still healthy. Brandon resisted the nervousness rising in his stomach, reminding himself of mind over matter, and walked towards her.

"... Yes, if the ozone layer depletes any further, I am afraid we will-" She then noticed Brandon watching her. She smiled at the fellow scientists around her, waving her hand, "If you will excuse me, doctors, I must attend to something."

The sharply dressed researchers cleared a path for her instantly, like she was a queen. She nodded to them then walked up to Brandon, "What have you got, kid?"

Brandon forced himself not to flinch away from her gaze. He handed his notebook to her, "The notes, ma'am."

With judgmental eyes she quickly scanned through pages of work. "These paragraphs are incorrectly indented. Not to mention sloppy penmanship on pages three and eight, as well as various grammatical errors on the last two pages. Run on sentences are a problem throughout."

That was it, Brandon winced.

The young woman handed back the notebook, "Do fix these errors, please? You know these notes summarize my lectures for the public. Many people judge books by the cover and this is no exception."

"My apologies, ma'am, I'll have this back to you by tomorrow morning."

"Good." She checked her watch, "Time to leave soon. Be at the car in five minutes, don't eat anything above two hundred calories." With that she left.

Brandon cast a glance at the refreshments table, then turned away. Like he was hungry now... He pulled his notebook up to his chest and squeezed it, mumbling his next words out so low she would never hear it. "Yes, mom..."


	3. Chapter III - Picture Perfect Pain

**A/N:**  
 **Ah yes, the filler everyday snippets chapter... This information is important, so still pay attention! xD I decided to show their morning routines because we already saw Gage's in Origin of Awesome, do why not try my hand at writing the others? Brandon was purposely left out, we'll see his daytime happenings next chapter, where he'll get more direct focus. I still gave Gage a brief scene because... he's the main character? Okay, it really was to transition between Wyatt and Rhett. And to add the coffee joke. (I wuv my coffee!) I enjoyed writing Wyatt's daily routine, giving him his usual, confident spurts of energy.**

 **Rhett is obviously a slob. We haven't seen him as he slob in the series yet but he's totally a slob. I threw in some humorous (hopefully) stuff and some angst inducing stuff as well. Because what better way to show (not tell? hopefully?) someone's struggles than old photos! :D**

 **Which of course, leads to Wyatt's own photo. Before anyone asks, the mystery person in the picture is not Wyatt himself. It's somebody from deep in his past, so his own friends don't know about this random OC. I'm pretty sure people will be able to figure out who "anonymous figure from Wyatt's past" is quickly with not too many hints, but why not see what anybody's guesses are? You probably don't need luck guessing, but good luck and shoot your theories in the review box! :)**

 **I hope I did Wyatt's aunt a worthy introduction. This scene alone shows how she is 24/7, and she will come back as a more vital plot device a ways further down the line. So don't forget her!**

 **I was cautious about adding the final scene with Wyatt (once he gets into his truck) because the obvious extreme emotions. But hey, Wyatt's always been high strung, and obviously is the type who hides his struggles from everyone, so yeah. Plus, I can totally see him wearing shades while blasting the radio!**

 **Enjoy this chapter! :)**  
 **~ Ashla.**

* * *

A red alarm blinked. 5:00. That annoying, agitating beeping did not stop until -

\- *POW!*

\- The alarm clock flew clear across the room. This was followed by sheets being kicked clear off the bed. A moment of silence passed before a southern accent was raised, "Show time."

Soon enough, all dressed and hair combed, Wyatt slid down the rail on the stairs. He jumped off and into the kitchen (full of priceless antiques) and checked his watch.

It was 5:24 a.m.

He pulled a dusting rag off a Victorian, steel chair. "I need to dus-" he sneezed, then wiped his nose, "Dust more..."

By six thirty he completed various tasks from dusting to vacuuming. He cleaned the house every morning, but antiques tended to collect dust quickly. Not like he minded much, this was for his grandmother. He did wish he actually was around the house more, but since Team Hotwheels became a thing he wasn't around that much. Yes, working at Larry's Garage was a part time job that took time out of the day, but this was still new. Leaving at seven thirty and returning anytime between six and twelve was certainly preparing him for adulthood. He was thankful his aunt Belinda lived just around the block and had agreed to keep an eye on his grandmother.

Of course, he was filthy now and had to shower _again_... he threw his table cloth in the laundry basket and headed up the stairs again.

* * *

Another pot of dark, rich, black coffee was just finished brewing. He held it in one hand, in the other hand was his favorite race car mug... He lifted the entire pot of coffee to his lips and down the hatch.

"Ugh... I hate this stuff..."

Gage put his coffee cup under the coffee maker, the actual coffee pot was placed on the table. After that, he checked the radar and cameras again. It had been a peaceful night, he even snuck in some shut eye. However, he was still exhausted from the all nighter. He looked over the screens once more... Nothing wrong.

He walked into the living room where a blanket was sprawled over the couch. The garage part of Larry's Garage was purposely neglected to avoid hints of a massive, underground, research lab beneath it. However, Gage thought it was high time they did _something_ about that stupid, lumpy couch. As he folded the blanket, he noticed something crammed between the couch cushions.

"Ew!" He whispered, pulling out a half eaten apple by the stem, "Seriously, Wyatt? You're almost as bad of a slob as Rhett..."

* * *

"Rhett, sweetie, it's time to wake up."

"Mmmff... Go 'way..."

"Rhett, it seven. I'm headed out the door for work and you need to get going too."

Rhett rolled from his stomach to his back, "Okay."

"Gotta go, honey. Love you, bye!" He heard her rushing outside the door.

The redhead pulled a pillow off his head and opened his eyes. The first thing he saw were the bearded mermaids he scribbled on the ceiling when he was eight. Five years, three months, three weeks, six days, nineteen hours, forty nine seconds and counting and his mom still had not caught them.

"Ladies and bearded merfolk," he smirked before literally rolling out of his bed.

*Thud!* He pulled himself out of his sheets and started searching through the piles of clothes and other stuff for his favorite outfit. Several minutes of throwing his sea of stuff around, he found just about everything. Still looking for his monkey socks though, he continued the search. He did eventually clear a _Turtletopia Theme Park_ shirt and a spare key to his old Bone Shaker aside and found... a turned down picture frame.

A guilty hoarder of old pictures, he did not know what photo this frame held. Curiosity caused him to turn the picture over.

And he instantly regretted that decision.

It was a photo taken several years back. He was seven then, and he was posing with the "peace" symbol as he sported a toothy smile. His mother was standing to the right. She was just as unorderly and discombobulated as always. Her uncombed, red curls and uneven glasses made her look like quite the mess, even in her professional outfit. An overworked office employee for years, her high standings at work seemed to have cost her sanity. The person next to her, so much more organized and neat, was giving the camera an almost military nod. It was Rhett's father.

He quickly turned over the picture again, understanding why he could of buried it so deep.

* * *

The yellow door opened. "Bye, Grammy Gram. I love you, Grammy Gram!"

"Grammy Gram loves you toooooo!"

A backpack on his back, his helmet tucked under his arm, Wyatt closed the door behind him. A gust of wind blew, causing him to instinctively hang onto his cap. Unfortunately, the wind blew something out of his backpack. He turned and saw the small photo flying away... _that_ photo.

"My picture!" He raced down the sidewalk, trying to catch the photo. When the wind died the picture landed face down on the pavement. A heavy boot landed on it.

"H-hey!" Wyatt reached down before looking up. He saw his Aunt Belinda right in front of him. Her high heel boots kept the picture in place. She was in her forties, a harty lady with short, curled black hair. She raised an eyebrow at him. He nervously smiled, "Hi, Aunty."

She sighed, "Sloppy as usual."

The chord hanging outside his half-zipped backpack confirmed it. 'Aunty' Belinda bent down and picked up the now grubby picture. She took one look, her nose wrinkling, "Isn't this-"

Full blown adrenaline rushed through Wyatt's body. He swiped the picture away from her, stuffing it into his pocket, "-my picture? Yes."

Belinda rolled her eyes, "Just move along, kid. Go do your daring duo, dangerous driving stunts."

Years of her criticism had hardened his skin, he simply nodded and walked to his truck. Once inside, his fake smile dropped, replaced with... emptiness. He threw his backpack onto the passenger seat. His broken alarm clock and a spare shirt fell out. He bit his lip and shoved them back in, zipping the bag shut. He slowly turned to the steering wheel. He pulled the small photo out of his pocket. He pulled his roof mirror down, opened the window, and placed the photo on it. It was neatly pushed into the crevice, in plain view for whenever he pulled the mirror down. He stared into the old photo, taken a lifetime of years ago, for a long moment... and he did something he swore he'd never let a single soul see.

He cried.

The tears were slow to come from emerald eyes. Slowly falling down his cheeks and off his jaw. Wiping his tears on his spare shirt from the bag (it was the first thing he could reach for,) he sighed, "Maybe today? Tell me why?"

Whatever the picture held, it said nothing.

Wyatt rolled his eyes, "Same old, same old... Have it your way."

He reached up for the sliding cover for the mirror, but gave the photo one, final glance, "Love 'ya."

He slammed the mirror, and the picture with it, shut. He took another moment of silence, staring at the digital clock on the radio. It was almost seven thirty.

Wyatt let out a heavy sigh, "Okay." He completely dried his face with the shirt, "That's enough feeling sorry for myself today."

He threw the shirt into the back, then pulled some black shades from the glove box, pushing them on his face. "Guess who's 'bringin home de bacon 'taday, boys and girls!" He started the truck, smirking as as he blared the radio, "Here we go!"

As he drove off, everyone within twenty feet could hear _Life is a Highway_ playing.


	4. Chapter IV - Smiles and Burdens

**A/N:**

 **I'm pretty sad, because Brandon's alarm was originally going to be "Bring me to Life" by Evanescence, but I realized it's not owned by the public domain (fanfiction site rules) so I can't use it. Bummer. I had the"waaaake mee uupp insiiiiiiiiiide" all typed out so well :/ Eh, I turned to the next best thing and added an annoying ringtone jingle. I worked hard to bring Brandon's cynicism out in this one, I hope I did not murder the death out of his character this time around. I really want to do him justice, he's one of my favorite characters in this series.**

 **I enjoyed writing the second half of this fanfiction. All four boys goofing off until the moment calls and we see a more serious side of their friendships. Not to mention, letting their personalities bounce off each other, especially between Brandon and Wyatt, was fun. I tried to capture the THW feel here, let's hope I succeed. And of course, minor bits of foreshadowing to future chapters so keep an eye out.**

 **Enjoy! Please let me know what you think of my writing in the review section? I'll admit, I've been a bit experimental in my writing style, trying not to make the narration sound redundant and lame. I've already written up to chapter twelve so far, but I do go through and edit a final time before uploading here, so it's never too late for improvement.**

 **EDIT: I edited a massive part of this - the explanation of monkey's absence from the story. I changed it because story plans changed as I thought it over, he has a place here after all (later on) and my first explanation was extremely lazy. So yeah. Monkey's alive! Maybe...**

 **Thank you!**  
 **~ Ashla**

* * *

It was ironic, someone who took every health precaution deemed fit, did countless research, and lived a very decent lifestyle... still could not stop his own snoring.

The rather loud sound was like thunder in the room. It was a decent sized room, one closet in the corner was polished and neat. There was a desk at one of the walls, books and papers stacked in honest attempts at being neat. None the less, even a majority of pencils, pens, and markers listed by color and manufacturers were in need of some tidying amongst their messy perches in their holders. Several numbers two pencils, in desperate need of sharpening, were scattered on the cyan shaded desk. The zaffre, metal chair that went with it was only pulled halfway out from its desk. The snoring from the room's occupant continued until his Hamhung Universe Six's alarm hit six o'clock and -

\- "BEEEEP! Dingyalingaling! BEEEEEEEP! Dingyalingaling!"

A hand grabbed the phone, resting on the small nightstand and plugged into the chord in the wall. The music stopped, and the phone slipped out of his hands, back onto the dark blue nightstand.

It always felt like being undead, waking up like this. A moan escaped poor Brandon as he pushed himself up, a pen and several notebooks falling into the heap of textbooks and school materials scattered across the bed. Even without the mess of educational supplies though, the bed was a mess of kicked and turned blankets, sheets, and pillows. Brandon could not recall the last time he had checked the time last night, but for some reason two o'clock a.m. sprang to mind.

"Ugh, I need to change my ringtone."

Silence encompassed the room as he looked around, still in the process of coming back to life. There were barely any pictures on the wall, save the one or two hung up on the wall over his desk. One picture, placed neatly in the frame, was not a photo but a paper. It was the diploma from when he graduated out of high school... at the age of twelve. Only just having turned fifteen this past month, Brandon was on his third year of college. He was working on his studies from home for flexibility - well with working a job as a part time car mechanic then full time law enforcement unit.

He sighed, pushing himself to his bedside. Hardly a morning person, but getting up anyways, he ran his fingers through his messy, blond hair. His blue, silk pajamas were even on crooked, further evidence of a long study night. Going for master degrees in multiple areas of science was pressuring, yet as always Brandon was not only on pace but ahead.

The night life of studying was over for now though, it was time for his day job.

All ready, hair done good enough and clothes on, Brandon swung his backpack on as he raced for the front door. Before he could go though...

"Lebay?"

Brandon screeched to a halt, like a computer program reaching an error in programming. Brandon hastily turned to the head of the house. As usual, she was looking professional and even scary, kind of like a lawyer. She was pushing her glasses up as she walked up to him holding one of her many science books in her free arm.

She nodded towards the direction of the house phone. "You received a call, I suggest you answer it back."

With that, she left the house. Brandon raised a confused and cynical eyebrow towards the direction of the house phone. He always used his personal, and very modern one could add, phone for any forms of communication. Why on earth would someone have tried to call from the crappy house phone?

None the less, it was his mother telling him this so it was no question he would answer anyways. With no mommy in the house to scold him for doing so, Brandon loudly sighed before he walked towards the phone. He lazily yanked the phone away from its perch and pressed the messages button.

An automated voice, bland and emotionless, was activated. "You have one new message from..."

The name struck him like lightning.

* * *

Rhett shoved his car keys into his pocket as he stepped into the garage and closed the door behind him. He had no time for his daily meditations this morning, and was planning on grabbing something from the lab's fridge. "I really need to wake up earlier..."

Despise his slightly churned mood (and rumbling stomach) he smiled as he surveyed the room. Nobody else was in the room. Thus, he cupped his hands and, yes, shouted.

"Good morning, crummy garage and awesome people in it!"

His mom was particular on him using words like 'crap,' so crummy had to do.

Rhett took a seat on that horrifying couch, looking around in confusion. Gage usually at least shouted back from another room by now, what was wrong? He shrugged and looked at the pictures on the walls. Old and new pictures hung up featuring the team, Larry, vehicles, monkey...

Rhett stood up, walking over to an amusing picture Brandon caught of monkey snatching a cranky Wyatt's cap. A sad smile spread across Rhett's face, tears ever so slightly forming in hazel eyes. "Monkey.."

He closed his eyes, remembering that only several weeks ago, this garage was complete. Larry, the robots, monkey... Larry took the robots and monkey with him to the science convention. Monkey was needed as a "body guard" of sorts. Of course, like always, it was certain he was the right primate for the job. However, when Larry disappeared, all communications gone numb, the same story was with monkey. Were they okay? Worry after worry was piling up in Rhett's mind. What if his monkey best friend was- no, he could not think like that.

At the sudden sound of the door nob turning, the rough, wood door cracking in response, Rhett quickly dried his eyes and turned to it with a smile.

Wyatt stepped in, holding several bags of fast food. He was grinning cocky and bright, "Order up! Guess who's bringing home the bacon, literally!"

The smell of "Edgar's Eats" famed bacon breakfast sandwiches hit Rhett's nose, sending him to Edgar's Eats Heaven, "Wyatt, I've needed this more than you know... Got any waffle fries?"

Wyatt pulled out a large box of the literal waffles cut into fries and handed them to his team mate. Rhett ate them like a lawn mower devouring grass. Wyatt chuckled at the youngest member of his team and set the rest of the food out on the coffee table. He looked around, confused. _Usually, Brandon and Gage are around here by now. And didn't Gage even stay the night here? Dude's working too hard..._

Several silent minutes flew by, filled in only with Rhett's happy feasting. Edgar's Eats was Wyatt's favorite too, but the young teen was too preoccupied with worries flying through his mind to eat much. His bacon sandwich only had two bites taken out, and it was lying on the wrapper on the table. Wyatt slowly sipped his cappuccino, _And Brandon's always about being on schedule. Where is he?_

Rhett fished the bottom of the bags for fallen fries. At this point he had devoured everything else.

Wyatt was about to reach for his sandwich again, but the sound of the door opening caused both kids to dart their eyes towards the door. It was Brandon. He had his usual checkered, blue shirt on with shabby jeans. Brandon's face was looking shabby too, he was obviously exhausted.

He threw his bag off as he closed the door, then placed his back against it. The blond kid slid down, now seated on Larry's matted rug, "Hi."

An amused but sympathetic smile spread across Rhett's face. Wyatt shook his head, "Long morning for 'ya too?"

Brandon closed his eyes, leaning his head against the door, "Yeah..."

Wyatt reached and took Brandon's bacon sandwich, waving it softly in the air. He smirked, "Maybe this'll make 'ya feel restored 'en back to-"

Brandon stood up and walked up to Wyatt, "-Just give me the stupid sandwich."

Wyatt pulled the sandwich away, smirking, "Nuh-uh-uh, is that the correct way 'ta ask for 'yer food?"

Brandon just glared, his signature death stare threatening to pierce his soul. Only threatening. Wyatt's smile simply grew.

Rhett excitedly picked up from Wyatt's dialogue, jumping at the opportunity to tease Brandon, "Come on, Brandon, what's the magic word?"

Brandon only blinked for a moment, his scowl staying where it was, before he spoke, "Please."

Grinning approvingly, Wyatt handed him the sandwich as Rhett cheered, "Good job, Brandon!"

Brandon ignored them and tore open the wrapper. He was about to dig in, when-

-* **WAM!** *

A massive bang was heard from the other room. Gage stepped into the room a moment later, holding his head and moaning in pain.

Rhett's eyes widened in worry, "Gage!"

Brandon put his sandwich down and raced up to his teammate, "Let me see, Gage."

Gage was wincing like crazy as Brandon guided him over to the couch. They sat down and Brandon took a look. He instantly turned, wincing at the injury on Gage's head, "We need an ice pack."

"Got it!" Wyatt bolted from his seat to the mini fridge in the corner of the room, rummaging the small coolant system for an ice pack.

"Anything I can do?" Rhett questioned.

"Tylenol." Brandon replied. Rhett raced into the bathroom, where all medications were kept.

Wyatt ran over to the couch holding a shark ice pack in a wash cloth. Brandon helped Gage put it on well. Gage hissed at the chill, but kept holding onto it.

"Thanks." Gage shivered.

Wyatt was quick to the point, "How much did 'ya sleep last night?"

Gage didn't seem to be putting any thought into his answer, "Two dollars? Dunno."

Brandon lowered his eyes, his death glare returning, "Gage..."

Gage looked at him.

"Gage, you are fourteen," Brandon explained, "Teens need an average of nine hours a day, maybe even ten. You are way below the status quo."

Gage sighed, "This again? Brandon, as your leader I'm telling you, I'm fine."

"As the oldest and team scientist," Brandon retorted, "I'm telling you you need to rest."

"And as someone with great observational skills," Rhett cut in, "I'm telling you that Brandon is being a hypocrite because he got little sleep too."

As Rhett helped Gage take pain medicine and chug it down with water, Brandon scoffed, "I still got a lot more sleep compared to him."

Gage finished his pill and drink, "So I've been discombobulated..."

"Very." Brandon threw in.

"Okay, so I've been _very_ discombobulated," Gage started, "It doesn't mean I'm incapable of doing anything with common sense, like pouring coffee into a cup." An overconfident smirk crossed his face, "I got this."

Wyatt rather dramatically and sarcastically cut in, "-Ooh, Granny Gram, tell me the one about that narcissistic, overconfident jerk who was a massive show off, left everything he had in the dust, acted upon his pride foolishly, got captured by road pirates, and ultimately put four thousand thirty two lives, including his best friends, in danger! Ooh, I love that story!"

Silence. Complete, total silence. They all just stared at the stunt man, Rhett slowly raising an inquisitive eyebrow.

Wyatt dropped his sarcastic smile, "Well, actually I hate it, but that's aside the point." The southerner sat on the couch, next to Gage. Genuine concern shone through his green eyes, "You're wearing yourself down, and you're eventually going to tear yourself down."

Gage shook his head, "Wyatt, I'm fine."

"No," Wyatt insisted, "You're not. You're putting this all on yourself. The all nighters, keeping the garage neatened up. Heck, you..." He revolted at this part, "Do everyone's laundry... _everyone's_... Eck!"

Rhett looked away, ever so slightly turning red.

Gage was silent as Wyatt continued, "I know what it's like, thinking help is unnecessary and denying when it is. Regardless of any form of reasoning or excuse, it's still no exception. Everybody's human, no one can go alone for long before it falls apart. Don't make that mistake, I know, I'm warning 'ya now."

For once, Gage seemed to be listening to something they were saying. If anyone here knew what it was like to fight alone, and the consequences of doing so, it was Wyatt. He pretty much ranked the "road pirate incident" from early in their careers as the worst day of his life. Even after that event was over, it was a lot of sleepless nights until his self esteem and morale as a whole to come back to a healthy stake. It had permanently changed him, and taught him more than ever that pride came before a fall.

The question was popping up in Gage's mind, _was_ he headed for a fall?

It was in that moment a yawn escaped him. It pretty much confirmed it... he most likely was.

Yet still, he fought it, "Larry's gone, he took the robots with him. Who else is going to do this?"

Brandon cut in, "-I've also pulled successful all nighters. Not to mention, our only problem right now seems to just be the silver driver."

Gage was obviously fighting another yawn; it made him look as young as he actually was. Still, he fought on, "One problem too many. It's been two weeks..."

"Yeah, it's a problem," Rhett responded, "A problem that won't be solved if you're not even aware enough to focus."

Gage went silent for a moment, his team's words circling around his head. He rubbed his eyes, "Maybe you're right..."

Brandon smiled and placed his hand on his leader's shoulder, "I'll keep a lookout for Silver today, you better rest up."

Gage hardly seemed to be processing his words, half asleep and ready to fall on the couch. Brandon situated his ice pack as he leaned Gage against the couch. As the oldest, he still felt a sense of responsibility over the others, even Gage who was their leader. And as much as he was doing this as a favor for him, little did the others know of a more selfish agenda behind taking the role.

Even a longer car ride over could not clear his own mind.

His own thoughts swirled in chaos, rotating like an EF5 tornado. That phone call, that one phone call... Brandon needed time to think. Going over the cameras would allow him that needed time. At least he hoped it would.

As of now, Rhett was throwing a blanket over Gage, obviously happy that Gage finally was resting up. Wyatt walked up to Brandon, who had already walked over to the elevator, "We're goin' down 'ta the lab, then?"

Brandon nodded, "Yes."

"Wow, thought we'd never knock some sense into that guy, eh?" Wyatt smiled, crossing his arms.

A grin of amusement crossed Brandon's face, "Totally. You did a good job."

Wyatt eyed his bestie, "Well, it wasn't just me."

Rhett joined them, smiling, "He's out."

A much more business like expression crossed Brandon's face, he gave the remaining members of the team a curt nod, "Then let's get to it."


	5. Chapter V - Course of Action

**A/N:**  
 **Dun dun duuuun! A major plotline is exposed!**

 **I originally wanted to add the flashbacked scenes as a part of chapter 4, but I wanted to hold any possible suspense throughout the chapter. That and I felt like chapter 4 was long enough. Aside that and some humorous (hopefully) dialogue between the team, this chapter does nothing. We're on chapter five and no action has happened yet. Bummer. Well, no worries, the epic fight scenes are just up ahead! Stay tuned!**

 **Oh, and the second poem in the fanfiction is here. I love writing free verse poetry, and I thought it would be nice to add some poetry with foreshadowing and stuff in it. Each poem describes something happening in the fanfiction (due.) I don't know what to call this chapter's poem, but the poem from chapter 1 is "Vengeance's Chant."**

 **Please tell me you can recognize the easter egg to THW's theme song in this chapter? It was a last minute thing I added that I kinda like. I also referenced a part of the movie _Pirates Who Don't Do Anything: a VeggieTales Movie_ (VeggieTales is my childhood) of a song one character was singing while rowing a boat across the open sea, "Papa's Got a Gumball Nellie." It just crossed my mind and I decided to reference a very underrated but awesome movie.**

 **In case you're wondering, this marks the beginning of the true angst in this fanfiction. Just letting you know that...**

 **...**

 **... Yup.**

 **...**

 **Happy reading! :D**  
 **~ Ashla**

* * *

Several hours into the day and nothing happened. It went clear past lunch time, Gage was still sleeping hard as a rock. Brandon decided to leave him like that, he needed as much sleep as he could get. They all took hourly shifts in front of the cameras, surveying all city life and watching out for any dangers. Of course, how Operation Team Hotwheels worked was that usual crime was handled by the police. It was only reoccurring and massive events that called for the team to step in and help out. At the start of the city's climb to royalty, large scale events were common. From road pirates to Doctor Gary Lake, Larry's brother, the team reached a point of exhaustion by the time the crime hurricane weakened. Since the first several months on the job, smaller scale battles against unusually evasive thugs could be seen scattered here and there on the time line. Aside that, Hot Wheels City had become surprisingly peaceful and economically strong. In fact, "silver" had become the largest thing to trouble the team in a long while. Two weeks into the straggling battle and the boys still couldn't catch their masked opponent.

Outside their watching duty shifts, they did minor tidying up around the lab here and there. Since Larry had taken the robots and Rollie to that science convention with him, the worst they had to worry about was stuff like sweeping and dusting. Rhett's major project today though was tuning up his car with his own two hands. Wyatt, of course, completed his three hour workout schedule between his shifts. Brandon was the one who took use of spare gadgets to make housecleaning a breeze, but purposely took longer shifts because... he needed to think.

The memory from this morning was gabbing at his mind, pulling his cautiousness. As he stared into the unentertaining screens, his mind went back again...

 _"U-uncle- I mean-!"_

 _"- I'm Benjiman LeBay, yes." A light chuckle came from the man on the other end of the phone line. His voice carried a weird sort of kindness, "You must be Bernadette's boy. Last I've seen of you, you were a tiny thing!"_

 _Cheeks red, Brandon chuckled nervously, "Um..."_

 _"But boy, from even just hearing you! You already sound like the makings of a fine, young man."_

 _"Really?" A for once enthusiastic Brandon asked before realizing... "I-uh- mean - I'm really honored, sir."_

 _Once again, Benjiman laughed, "You are fifteen, correct?"_

 _"Yes, sir." Brandon had finally gained some composure."_

 _Benjiman's reply was earnest, "Less than a minute of conversation, and you already remind me of my sister when she was your age." A moment of silence passed, he continued, "Considering you have your mother's same capacity, perhaps I could offer you a job opportunity?"_

 _A comparison of Brandon to his mother made goosebumps ride up his spine. Being like his mother, oh... It was everything he wanted to be, yet he despised the thought of it. It caused his response to be but a chilled whisper, "Job opportunity?"_

 _"Yes," Benjiman responded, his tone suddenly growing more serious, "As you may know, I run the Lebay Lab in New York. Is that correct?"_

 _"Yes," Brandon responded like he was answering a test, "A massive lab located in the corner of the state, far from New York City... for controversial reasons..."_

 _Benjiman scoffed, "With how much people whine over us testing life saving drugs on rats, it was needed. Either way, my assistant manager has recently walked out. He was a man I trusted for years on the job, he simply thought it was time to retire. Of course, I understood and let him go. However, I can only trust a... special person... as a suitable replacement. I spoke things over with my sister, she says you've been in the work force for several years now, and may even be part of something larger... Is this correct."_

 _Brandon's heart beat started to accelerate. Sweat collected on his hands as he thought it over. Operation Hotwheels was something very few were allowed to even know details of aside a minority. Larry, the boys, the boys' primary guardians, as well as the mayor and the police and rescue departments were in on it. Speaking of it even in public places was highly constricted. Brandon gulped, he had to be careful in his wording as he spoke._

 _"Yes," he responded, "I have indeed worked before. Since I was twelve."_

 _"Wonderful," Benjiman responded, "A bit young, but not a problem. Of course, this is an important job that will pay a hefty amount. It will be enough for beyond decent living."_

 _"How much?" Brandon could not help but ask, only pulling his hand over his mouth a moment after it slipped out._

 _Benjiman only laughed, "Unafraid and bold in questioning, just like my sister. Of course, here is all you need to know, my dear nephew..."_

Job information from salary to specifics on his possible occupation was certainly all good. His chin rested in the palm of his hand as his eyes glossed over the video monitors. Worry filled his brilliant mind as the conversation's closing drew in upon his memory...

 _Brandon could not help but whistle at the semi-annual salary offered to him. A slight chuckle escaped him as he responded, pacing back and forth with the phone in his hand, "Wow, that's an offer I can take interest in."_

 _Benjiman chuckled, "Well, young LeBay, money has always been a strong attraction in our bloodline. Of course, you do know that we would need to give you time for the move over if we move onto contracts."_

 _"Yes, wel- wait! Move?" Brandon skidded to a halt._

 _Benjiman laughed again, "Indeed, LeBay, we are located in New York after all."_

 _Brandon lowered his phone, "Oh yeah..." He lifted the phone back up, "W-well, what exactly are we talking about, moving?"_

 _"You still are a bit young to even rent out an apartment, so until you are at least eighteen you would be staying with me. Mansion's huge, you'll have lot's of room. Also, it would mean moving residence, changing phone numbers, switching your college courses over. Basically, you're bringing everything vital with you. I would become your new official guardian, instead of your mother, so you'll have to adjust to that too-"_

 _"-Waitwaitwaitwaitwaitwaitwait," Brandon stopped him, "So, we're talking about a several thousand mile move, with the distance between here and where you are being about three day's travel?"_

 _"Yes."_

 _"So, if I took this job, I would be leaving everything behind?"_

 _"Yes."_

 _For once in his lifetime, Brandon's mind turned to static._

 _A moment of silence passed. Sudden tsunami force waves of multiple thoughts and emotions slamming against him from all sides. Even physically, his knees started to vibrate. Over the phone though, zero evidence of his stress and trauma would be heard. Calmly, strict but open minded in business like tone, Brandon maintained his family's dignity. "May I have time to think about it?"_

 _"Of course you can," his uncle's soft voice responded, "Unfortunately, I can only give you so much time to contemplate. I need to have another manager hired via signed contract by the end of the month."_

 _"Great..." Brandon whispered to himself, rolling his eyes._

 _"I can give you until Friday at the most, by that time I need a definite answer."_

 _Today was Tuesday, so Brandon had only three days to make a life shattering decision that would completely morph every little thing he knew. Well, this was great. Once again though, family pride was enough to keep Brandon from freaking out the slightest. Choosers couldn't be beggars now, could they?_

 _"I'll let you know by then."_

It was many hours since that fateful phone call, and Brandon's mind was still racing. So much, so little time. Like trying to hastily build up blocks to a block tower, causing it to fall each time, Brandon simply could not even come to yet in even beginning to thoroughly think this through. Three days? How on earth could he figure out what was pretty much his life plan in this short of a time period? His eyes faded away, beyond the video screens, and into a world of chaotic and discombobulated thought life. Racing faster than Gage's hyperspeed, nothing gave and no doors opened. It just kept raging on in a tornadic spinstorm until his thoughts were finally interrupted by...

"-My turn!"

Brandon literally leaped from his chair, a scream escaping him as a jumped away from the sudden appearance of a wild Rhett. Massive breaths, deep inhaling, was what happened in Brandon's lungs as his eyes slowly dilated back to normal.

Rhett, who had been beaming joyfully at his appearance, raised a judgmental eyebrow, "Dude, I was so loud when I opened the door you should of known I was here."

"I didn't?" Brandon half answered, his voice hoarse.

Rhett just scoffed, an amused smile crossing his face, "Thinking over the potential flaws of Newton's Laws of Physics again?"

Brandon finally recovered, returning to his usual, no nonsense self, "Laws of _Motion_. And just pay attention to the monitors. Let us know if _anything_ pops up."

"Dude, I know," Rhett said, taking his seat, "This is my forth shift."

"Yeah," Brandon rolled his eyes, "Whatever. Just stay awake and alert." A slightly softer expression crossed his eyes, "Need any soda or caffeinated tea?"

"Just had my fifth cup of caffeinated tea while working on my car, I'm good." Rhett responded.

"Okay," Brandon shrugged, "Now get to it."

"Got this, buddy." Rhett smiled. He turned to the video monitors, lightly humming to himself.

A moment or so passed before Brandon, who was still standing there, growled, "Could you please stop that?"

"What?" Rhett turned to Brandon, eyebrow raised again, "'Papa's Got a Gumball, Nellie' is a great song!"

"'Papa's Got a Porkchop, Sue' or what's its face gets old after the thirty second verse." Brandon retorted, "Besides, it always makes me hungry..."

"I still say it's a great song!" Rhett argued, turning defiantly back to the cameras.

Brandon was steadfast against the team's youngest, "I'm trying to think."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Rhett's voice was sharp with annoyance, "I didn't know you had to think here and now. You could leave the room, ya'know! It _is_ my shift!"

Brandon scoffed, turning to leave the observatory, "Fine by me..."

As he turned to leave though, an alarm could be heard beeping through the system controls. Brandon quickly turned around at the sound. Rhett's hazel eyes were already glued on the cameras, face hardened with sudden seriousness, "It's silver!"

Brandon raced back up to him, eyes tracing that familiar car, Circle Tracker, just snooping around the city outskirts. Sure signs of the location, its desert sands and bumpy roads, marked the outermost regions of downtown. It was actually pretty close to the garage itself. All thoughts of family life and job opportunities flew out the window, Brandon reached for the red alarm button. As it rared quite loudly, Rhett shouted into the microphone, "Round I've-lost-count-of-how-many-times-we've-done-this, here we go!"

* * *

Of course, now fairly experienced at emergency response, all four members of the team, including a half awake Gage, had swiftly changed into their uniforms and were jumping into their vehicles. As Wyatt pulled his helmet over his luxurious hair, Gage's shocked shriek echoed across the comn channel, "Oh my goodness, it's that late?"

Wyatt rolled his eyes, a light smile on his face, as Rhett responded, "Yeah, you needed it."

"But I missed lunch!" Gage retorted.

"It was bland ol' peanut butter 'n jam," Wyatt responded, "You didn't miss nothin'."

"Hey! hey," Brandon shouted, trying to get everyone back on track, "Let's go!"

* * *

I'm not that smart  
I just don't know when to stop  
I'm so stubborn, I'm the dullest whip  
And sure enough, slowly, my broken heart is caving in  
But I won't give in...

I'm not brilliant like you  
I can't think like you sure do  
What your thoughts are of me now I have no clue  
But I will never give up on you  
Brother, I love you

I've always looked up to you  
I've suffered a lifetime of abuse  
So I know what you're going through  
But what am I to do?  
Cause maybe it's time to put this dream aside  
It's true  
But I'll never stop chasing you

This would not be the first time someone close left  
This is not the first time my patience has been tested  
But I will keep fighting to the very end  
Chasing your tail, when you're my worst friend

So go ahead, pour on more  
Buckets of rain and thunder storms  
You don't know how many times I've cried over you  
Push me away, you can't shove me off, I'm too shrewd  
I won't give up just yet  
But at the same time how long can I pretend  
Like you're not hurting me  
So go ahead, criticize me, talk down on me  
To the grave I'll proudly bleed

I've always looked up to you  
Despite what you put me through  
I will never stop chasing you  
The final choice is up to you  
But if you were to reject me, what would I do?


	6. Chapter VI - Predator

**A/N:**

 **Oh yeah! Action time! Queue the heavy music and explosions! ... I unfortunately did not add an explosion for this one. Very sad, much disappoint. I will try to add an explosion somewhere in the action scenes! Hey, as least we get racing cars and guns, so great!**

 **Also, as for Silver, this is the first time we really see his personality. Everyone agrees that he's a jerk, right? I actually do have his backstory and everything planned out, up to his name and how he learned to drive. But yeah, even though he has a dark story, he's totally still a jerk. I purposely made him a jerk.**

 **Moar focus on Wyatt, baby! He's my favorite, so I obviously had to explore his character and... torture him the most... for our second massive action scene!**

 **Quick question, how long will this series keep using the word "impossible?" We need a timer for every time the word _impossible_ is used in the three films... because it's bleeding into my fanfiction writing.**

 **~ Ashla.**

* * *

Three cars (and a truck) easily glided over the orange track. The sunlight sparkled across the paintwork, engines roaring like tigers as Gage sped off and down to the asphalt road. Sand was covering several spots, almost even burying it. A windy day was causing the collision of road and desert sand. Gold sand seemed to have that mineral glow of common rocks with smidgens of crystal. Gage was tempted to go on speed high, but controlled himself. Easily refreshed, he found it so much easier to think and hand out orders again. "Brandon, what's your readings?"

The team's gadget guy and scientist glanced down at the tablet screen at the controls, "Silver's on the scanners. Exactly a quarter of a mile ahead. At this pace, we'll reach him in no time."

"Thanks, Brandon," Gage responded, he then considered his options of attack. "In case this becomes some kind of chase, we need someone ahead to make sure he doesn't get too far, or at least distract him. Wyatt!"

"Yup!" Wyatt shouted, his confidence shining bright as the sun.

"Off road over to the next exit. If silver tries to run, that's as far as he goes."

Wyatt could pretty much be heard smirking through the comn channel, "Won't let 'ya down!" He instantly took to the sand.

Gage turned to the next thing, "Rhett, this section of the town is deserted, makes a good hiding spot. Aside the exit it's his only escape route." He chuckled, a wave of nostalgia causing him to smile warmly, "When we were kids, you never lost a game of hide and seek once..."

Rhett laughed back, "Aw, I wasn't that good... I'm on it!" As Rhett stopped and reverse drove back to the set of dilapidated, brick buildings they already passed, Gage spoke to Brandon.

"Alright, Brand-Oh, here we go! I'll get to the other side of him while you try to get him from where you are."

"Yes, sir." Brandon's eyes narrowed, completely caught in the moment that was attempting to capture silver... again... _We can do it this time!_

Soon enough, comically pulled over at the side of the road, Circle Tracker was indeed occupied by the silver driver within. Masked even now, Gage's keen eyes noted his realization that they were there. Thus, he... threw a bag of chips aside... And pulled back to the road immediately. Gage slammed the pedal, hastily collecting speed in attempts to get ahead of him. Brandon's cry caused Gage to come to his senses, "Gage, he's too fast!"

Gage swiftly slammed the breaks, his car coming to a jumpy stop as he narrowly avoided a gruesome crash with the silver car that sped away. Brandon braked a lot more smoothly, pulling up behind him, "What now?"

Gage opened up his comn with Wyatt, "Wyatt, buddy, he's headed your way."

"Heard 'ya loud and clear," Wyatt answered, "I'm ready."

It was about time too. He literally got to the exit five seconds ago and he felt so bored. He slightly revved his engine, a smirk crossing his face as he looked ahead. Nothing but clear, desert sands and a road reflecting the sun caused vision to get hazy. He still noticed the single, silver blip on the road, racing towards him from afar. He caused his tow cable to pop out from the back, it dangled lightly in the wind as Wyatt waited...

 _Here he comes..._

As the sports car drew nearer, his heart pounded faster and harder. Like a snare drum, everything was happening so fast. Mouth wide, gasping for air at the sheer thrill of it, when silver came close enough Wyatt acted.

His sand yellow car leaped right over, giving silver only a moment to be clear. With just the right momentum, timing, and luck, Wyatt managed to entangle his tow cable to the back of Circle Tracker. Their vehicles were now attached, and the moment he landed Wyatt slammed the breaks. His powerful truck surely had more muscle than that silly sports car, right?

Wrong.

Even if silver was brought screeching against the weight and power of the truck, it did not completely stop him. A game of tug-a-war instantly started, the two vehicles locked in a duel of strength. Wyatt gritted his teeth, growling, "What a car!"

Even driving forward with all he had, Wyatt knew his cable could snap on either end of them. He had to think fast! His emerald eyes widened, he reached into a cubby and pulled out a small, flintlock pistol from it. It was always kept ready for any quick draws, and this was the time! His window was already down, so it was easy to simply point the gun, use his rear view mirror to aim, and...

He successfully hit the tire.

Several bullets did it. Circle Tracker was stopped in its tracks as the burst wheel rendered it undrivable.

Wyatt fist thumped in victory, then jumped from his truck. His pistol only had two bullets left, but that was not stopping him. He was going to get to silver, he was going to beat silver, this all would finally be over!

How flawed was his overconfidence.

From the front seat, the silver driver leaped out himself, ready to meet him. Wyatt was completely unprepared for when the masked driver aimed several precise, controlled, hits at his face and chest. Wyatt stepped back, feeling that shock similar to just being drenched with freezing water unprepared. He didn't even notice himself drop his flintlock as silver pressed on. He obviously was a trained martial artist, as he landed several more good punches at him. Wyatt lost complete sense of direction, vision reduced to a blur as Silver kept creaming him. Here Wyatt was, the one often credited as the strongest member, the best fighter, of his team... Receiving an ego check once again. Finally punched soundly in the gut, Wyatt hunkered over. The grey driver then landed a kick across his face. His nose bleeding, hair in front of his eyes, Wyatt was thrown back by a second kick that actually made his helmet fly off. Wyatt comically landed on his tush.

He was being slaughtered out here.

As the blazing sun beat down on them, Silver picked up the flintlock and just about casually walked up to him.

"That's mine!" Wyatt jumped up to get it, but Silver intervened. He completely dodged his chicken bone punch and tossed him over.

Now with a face full of irritating, itchy sand, Wyatt sputtered as he felt that cold, metal bar placed against his skull.

"Today has been fun," Silver spoke. His voice basically screamed as much overconfidence as Wyatt, yet... carried a lot more knowledge behind it. It was a peppy voice, yet the underground frost behind it made Wyatt's heartbeat slow down.

"You know how they say every cloud has a silver lining?" The boy beneath the mask chuckled as he pressed the gun harder against his head, "This one has none."

Wyatt decided to jump right aboard this word play train, smirking as he spit sand from his mouth, "Well, isn't it a happy day when the sun breaks through the clouds?" Wyatt's eyes were locked on the crimson blood from his nose, staining the pure sand. His situation was bad, but he was holding on, "And the sun's warmth and light makes one 'er two gloomy clouds worth it."

"Worth it?" Silver sounded intrigued, so caught up in this contest of similes and metaphors, "In what way?"

"The rain is cold, but it's essential 'ta life." Wyatt responded, "And then the sun lets us know it was worth the trouble, worth that wind and rain. Rain fed the weak plants, the wind strengthened them. Then the sun beats down on it, making it worth it."

"If that's the case," Silver hummed to himself for a moment before considering, "That sun sure feels pretty hot today... So tell me, what has it shone to you? Are _you_ worth it?"

* * *

Gage was quick, as usual, on forming his plan B's. "Brandon, Rhett?"

They both answered immediately. Rhett's enthusiasm and Brandon's I-don't-careism harshly contrasted each other. It almost made Gage bust out and laugh. He held his tongue, only a smile spreading across his face as he handed out his orders, "You guys go meet up at the dilapidated area, I'm going to go try and lure Silver away from the exit, towards that direction."

Brandon immediately departed from him, heading towards Rhett's location. With that, Green followed Silver's trail. "Wyatt?"

No reply.

"Wyatt!" Gage growled in warning. Nothing but static. How easily Silver had handled Rhett back at the parking lot building entered his memory. Growing concern, mixed with some bottom line annoyance at his former rival, caused Gage to subconsciously pick up speed.

And Gage was right to worry.

* * *

A speechless Wyatt was shaking under the threat of his own gun. Silver, on the other hand, seemed to be enjoying himself. Taking pleasure in playing with his food, he happily wrecked physiological warfare on his torture victim.

"Today was a fun day. Today is a good day," his finger laid itself loosely upon the trigger, "Today was the day silver out valued gold."

Wyatt was starting to see in red, like the sun was gone and a blood moon took its place, lost in the sun's shadow. He couldn't stop his heart from racing, the thought crushing his mind. Here he was, at direct gunpoint with no escape. He was going to die.

He was going to die useless too...

Neither of them processed the sound of a speeding car racing up to them. Only when the shout was unleashed did they realize it.

"Leave him alone!"

Gage drifted to a stop, pulling his car hatch open and instantly pulling out his pistol. No hesitation was made before firing - they had been chasing this jerk for two weeks and he was sick of it. Several gun shots rang across the rolling desert, all blindly missing but still causing Silver to distance himself from a still paralyzed Wyatt.

Gage jumped from his vehicle, his boots thudding against the asphalt, as he pointed his gun at their masked agitator, "Surrender!"

Much to Gage's annoyance, he just casually pulled at his visor, keeping it down. A chuckle escaped from the silver rider, "I think you forget just who is in jeopardy over here."

Wyatt pulled himself up, sweaty hair wiping as he turned to see Gage and Silver only several paces from each other, Gage's pistol pointed right at him. Honest confusion was on his face though as Gage raised an eyebrow, "What do you-"

In a split second, Silver aimed the flintlock at Gage. Gage acted immediately, pulling the trigger and firing at him.

* * *

Rhett had wasted no time in meeting Brandon at the entrance of town. Even though he was much better at forming battle plans on a whim, he instinctively turned to the oldest for directions, "Once Gage gets here, what?"

Brandon rolled his window down, looking through Rhett's as they made eye contact. Brandon was, of course, lost on what to do. So, he went with what they all always did when confused...

"Gage'll let us know when he gets here."

Rhett bit his lip though, "Shouldn't we ask him now? Just in case?"

Brandon shook his head, "No, he's probably too busy distracting Silver..." A nervous cloud seemed to come over his eyes when he thought of his best friend, "Hope Wyatt's okay."

"Brandon, you worry too much!" Rhett smiled hopefully, "This is Gage and Wyatt we're talking about, they'll be fine!"

Brandon could only hope he was right.

* * *

Wyatt's eyes widened, tears even threatening to appear. Heart racing faster than before, a single thought was caught up in his mind...

 _That's impossible!_


	7. Chapter VII - Silver Versus Gold

**A/N:**

 **Tooortuuuuuuuuuuuure! Torture all our favorite characters! Yuuuus! Mwu-ah-ha-ha-ha-haaa!**

 **I'm such cruel writer. Even added that cliffhanger last chapter. :(**

 **Yes, we're only seven chapters in and somebody gets injured! Ah! Gutsy move, eh, Ashla? Well, it's to further move the story on. And tears. Lotsa tears.**

 **I really wanted to see how an already ill tempered Wyatt would react to a really, REALLY bad situation. All his hot headedness and emotional instability amounted to a result I'm proud of. I also liked writing out the others, but what I did with Wyatt, Ashla likie.**

 **Enjoy (thischapterofangstandmisery!)**

 **~ Ashla.**

* * *

Gage's eyes were wide in shock, caught in disbelief over what he just witnessed. It was impossible! How did he do it?

 _But... nobody's that fast!_

Impossible. All science was against it.

 _Nobody!_

Even logic deemed it an impossible task.

 _Nobody... Not even me._

There Silver stood. He was completely unaffected, not a scratch on him. He seemed so calm, so relaxed. It was only a split second after he had done the impossible too...

That silver driver just dodged a bullet.

He made it look so easy, such a carefree chore. Gage simply could not understand how on earth it was done. They were so close to each other, that bullet had traveled in milliseconds. Gage had trusted this gun as long as they were on this team, that bullet should have ran true... Yet, here he stood after successfully dodging a bullet.

"H-..." Gage barely managed the words, "... How?"

Silver only shrugged, turning his head to look at an equally mind blown Wyatt before turning back to Gage. Instead of answering his question though, he simply spoke, "My turn."

It happened so fast. Oh, it happened so fast. With such close proximity, with his lighting fast reflexes. An almost unnatural ability, shaded as a secret from his opponents, Silver aimed and shot with the flintlock pistol.

The impact caused Gage to fall back against the ground, motionless.

Tears instantly formed and fell from Wyatt's eyes, mouth wide as hurricane force emotions fell upon him. His gaze was focused on Gage's body for a moment before he turned back to the silver driver. Tears pouring, his face was twisted in rage like never before.

"You..." He growled.

Silver only looked at him for a moment, head tilted, as Wyatt fumed.

" **YOU MONSTER**!" Fists clenched, he screamed back at him. Eyes dilated in mourning and rage. Rage. Deep, unchecked, horrifying anger like the lava finally exploding from a volcano. It was all he had, alone with all common sense flying out the window.

He would be Silver's easiest target yet.

Silver quickly pointed Wyatt's own gun at him, firing the final bullet.

* * *

Back at the deserted streets...

Rhett just had this gut feeling. Was something wrong? He looked on ahead, through the cool, air conditioned car into the burning desert. No signs of Gage.

And he knew Gage, he already was taking too long. So obsessed with speed and breaking records, he should of come back here by now. Rhett turned to look at Brandon. Through his own closed windows, he appeared to be looking down at his tablet. Rhett smiled, rolling his eyes, _Nerd..._

Smirking, he reached up and suddenly turned on the comn, "Focus, Brandon."

Brandon let out a surprised gasp, then turned to give Rhett a disapproving death glare from the window, "Rhett..."

The redhead only smirked a larger smile.

Brandon rolled his eyes, sighing as he returned to reading whatever was on his tablet, "Please..."

Rhett could catch a tinge of unseen emotion in his usually bland voice. A frown crossed the car guru's voice, "You okay, buddy?"

Brandon looked back up to him again. The blue eyed boy's face was distorted by their windows, but his face was indeed troubled. A moment after that expression though, Brandon gave Rhett that geeky smile, "I'm good."

Rhett didn't buy it, but he remembered how he had called Brandon up for a reason, "Gage should of been here by now..."

Brandon looked ahead, staring out into the ocean of sand, "Agreed."

Another moment of silence passed, then Rhett heard Brandon open up his comn with Gage, "Gage, how's it going?"

...

Concern bleeding through his stern voice, Brandon tried again, "Gage, respond."

Nothing.

Rhett also tried calling him, "Gage, buddy, you there?"

No response.

...

Brandon finally shouted through the comn, "Gage, as the oldest I'm telling you to answer us!"

Still... Nothing.

Brandon growled, tossing his tablet aside and starting his car, "Rhett, stay here, guard in case Silver comes around. I'm going after him."

Rhett nodded, placing his hands on the wheel, "Okay, good luck."

Brandon wasted no time in pulling out, racing towards the direction that Gage and Wyatt were in.

* * *

The bullet was deflected harmlessly off Wyatt's armor. The thought crossed his discombobulated mind that that was the last bullet. Silver was out of missile projectiles, and Wyatt could not wait to feel his skull against his fists.

Silver would pay for what he had done.

A turbulent, one track mind worked loosely behind the raging emotions fueled by attachment and fear. He could not have lost Gage to this- this _creature_ , could he? And if he had, his friend's death would be avenged.

Nobody messed with the people close to Wyatt. _Nobody_. And that was final.

Fist raised, a tear drenched Wyatt raced towards his oppressor, his enemy, and screamed. None the less, a much more level headed and even happy grey rider simply swerved aside. Hair flying in the wind, Wyatt slowly looked to him, eyes bloodshot and misty.

The silver rider dared, oh he so dared, to taunt him. "How is the sun shining on you now? Are you worth it now?"

Eyes dilated, vision both blurred and choppy, Wyatt's hoarse voice cracked in enraged aggression, " **Shut up**!"

More loose punches, too loose and uncontrolled, were thrown at him. Silver dodged every one, "You know what you are? Worthless."

"No!" Wyatt screamed, pressing on against the desert heat and desperately trying to land a punch.

As he dodged, Silver continued on, "Unneeded, taken for granted, a little boy with no future."

A hoarse cry was followed by a more aggressive, but sloppier, assault. It did not stop Silver one bit, "A nobody, a loner. Abandoned by many, accepted by few."

"No!" He screamed, "Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!"

Silver simply pulled his foot in front of him, causing Wyatt to fall on his face. He bent down to him, pulling his hand to his visor, maybe even planning on pulling it up, but...

The sound of an engine roaring from the direction of town caused Silver to stand up again, "Kid, you are nothing worth value to anyone. Gold is overrated anyways." With that, he ran towards his car, swiftly pulling out a rivet gun and changing his tire.

With a blue sports car dead ahead, Wyatt finally had a sensible thought and ran over to Gage, scooping him up and jumping away from the road as Brandon roared through. Yet another gadget of his, a submachine gun attached to the side of the car, above the bumpers, came out and a swarm of bullets were fired against the scorching road ahead. Silver had finished changing the tire, but didn't even bother to clean up before jumping into the driver's seat and pulling away. As Circle Tracker sped out to the exit, another barrage of bullets were fired from Brandon's car. Once again missing though, the weapon was pulled back into the car as it slowed to a stop.

They had lost against the silver driver. Again... and maybe at a terrible price.

Wyatt could not remember the last time he wept so hard. His entire body vibrating, he barely managed to pull Gage's jacket zipper down. Pulling his underneath grey shirt up, he took a look at the bullet wound embedded in his skin. There was certainly blood trickling from the wound, but even as the nervous wreck Wyatt was, he noticed how Gage's wound was not anywhere vital. Somehow, that silver driver didn't hit Gage in a critical spot. Furthermore, the steady rising and falling of his chest confirmed the best, that Gage was alive.

A smile crossed his face, he was becoming delirious in relief. Gage was alive! It was going to be okay.

Brandon ran up to them with a med kit, ocean blue eyes wide in worry, "Gage!"

Wyatt would have replied him, but already was too weakened by everything to respond to anything around him anymore.

Yet Brandon was shocked for a moment.

The blood.

Red, dark, pure blood. It trickled down his side, it had stained his grey undershirt. Blood. Red blood. It was rare to see, and it was coming from such a wound... Nausea built up, bile rising up Brandon's throat, threatening to spew out. Blood. Brandon was, little known, terrified of seeing it. Yet, here it was. Blood. Gage was bleeding, and he was injured and unconscious. It was most likely shock and the pain that knocked him out, and his face was surprisingly peaceful. Yet, Brandon could not get past the blood...

Luckily for everyone though, Brandon was not the team leader, and his words weren't always law.

"G-G-... Gage?"

Brandon's haunted eyes turned to see Rhett just stepping out of his hot rod. His innocent eyes were ever so disturbed by the image before him, hazel pupils wide. "Gage..."

Their bond. Gage and Rhett's bond. An extremely close friendship, forged since the times of tater tot toddlers ensured years of an unbreakable closeness. Rhett's horrified expression was all it took for Brandon to snap to his senses. He rolled his sleeves up and yanked his gloves off. With the accuracy and speed of a computer system, he properly removed the black bullet, cleaned the wound, and wrapped it in bandages - despite wanting to scream and throw up through the whole thing. That overprotective, older brother instinct kept pushing Brandon onward, he could not fail his loved ones here. As much as he was skin and bones, adrenaline allowed Brandon to actually pick Gage up, keeping his head above his heart. Knowing that Wyatt was far too out of it, he turned to Rhett, who like the stunt man was reduced to tears.

Out of the two of them through, Rhett was his best bet, "Rhett," Brandon addressed him, "Please get to the passenger side of your car, pull the seat down."

His own adrenaline rush was almost physically visible. Unwilling to lose his best friend now, Rhett ran towards his vehicle and did everything Brandon had instructed, then helped Brandon put Gage in the hot rod without causing further blood lose. Brandon did not take a moment to rest, turning to Rhett, "Race, Rhett, race like never before. You know where the hospital is."

Rhett didn't even respond, he just ran to his side of the vehicle and started it. Brandon took the passenger door, ready to close it, and quickly told him the rest, "We'll meet you there."

Rhett's eyes were flooded with tears, but his pale face held an iron determination. Knowing he could trust Rhett with their leader and friend's life, he slammed the door.

And Rhett roared away.

Finally taking respite, Brandon pulled his sleeves down again and walked over to a hunkered Wyatt.

He looked awful.

His left cheek had a brown bruise, his hair was messy and in all directions. Dried blood was crusted from his nose to the bottom of his neck, the still running stream of tears making it so much worse. This was an ordeal they had just gone through, and Wyatt was easily affected the most. Still though, the blood, both Gage's and Wyatt's, splotched across the yellow sand was enough to finally cause Brandon to turn and bend over, emptying his stomach's contents onto the ground. Eyes shut, tears finally leaking from his azure eyes, Brandon took his time allowing his initial shock to pass. Yes, he and Wyatt were going to meet Rhett at the hospital, but they both needed their time.

After dropping onto the ground, the burning sun threatening to cause dehydration even more, Brandon looked towards Wyatt, who had finally stopped crying, but was still zoned out. Childhood memories flickered across Brandon's mind. Years ago, when they were only eight, and Wyatt saved his life. Brandon sighed, that old song coming across his mind.

 _You are my sunshine_

 _My only sunshine, you make me happy_

 _When skies are grey._

A sad smile crossed his face, he finally got up and walked over to Wyatt. Unclipping his armor, he spoke quite clearly to him, "Let's see how bad you got it this time..."

Unzipping his jacket, Brandon instantly recoiled at the various bruises on his arms and around his stomach. Wincing, he also noticed the bruising on his neck. Wyatt had just taken a whole lot of punishment and managed to stay conscious.

But of course, he was always strong like that.

Brandon zipped up his suit again, "You'll be okay, just take it easy." Knowing of Wyatt's stubbornness only too well, he shook his finger as he added, "Tylenol is your friend."

Wyatt finally managed to look at Brandon, finally seeming to come back to the land of the living. He then looked down to the sandy ground again. Brandon put a hand on his shoulder, smiling fondly "For taking a beating like that, you did pretty good." He then dropped the smile, concern dominating his voice, "Can you drive?"

Another moment passed before Wyatt mumbled, "Yeah..."

Brandon decided to push him just a small bit, taking his hand and pulling him up. An exhausted and emotionally defeated Wyatt followed in suit, standing up with him, but not making eye contact. Brandon pulled him over to his truck, "Are you sure?"

Wyatt still seemed dead in his eyes, but nodded before hoisting himself in. Brandon nodded back to him, the final line in that song crossing his mind...

... _Please don't take my sunshine away_.


	8. Chapter VIII - Is it Worth the Weight?

**A/N:**

 **Character development!**

 **Another slower chapter after the action from the previous two. This is where things are going from bad to worse for our heroes, but I still tried to add some classic THW humor where I could. We never get to see how the team could potentially react to possible extreme loss, and I wanted to illustrate how Brandon is already a bit isolated away from the others.**

 **I enjoyed writing my take on Gage's mother. She was existence dropped once in this series by his dad, and I've been wondering what kind of mom Gage has. In the end, I landed on "strict but warm." She also carries a temper and some of Gage's own bad habits xD I loved writing her personality bouncing off dad's. We already know what Mr. Green is like, and it wasn't that hard to write him.**

 **I love blue jays. Just sayin'. My favorite birds are owls, but blue jays are great too. I was going to use a blue bird in this chapter originally, but I did research. While blue birds represent innocence and cheer, blue jays represent bravery and courage. Uh, yeah, I know what symbolizing bird I'm using in this chapter.**

 **~ Ashla.**

* * *

Brandon refused to let Wyatt step foot into the hospital without cleaning himself up. After changing into his casual clothes and using many baby wipes on his face, Wyatt jumped out of his truck, where Brandon was waiting. Usually, when Wyatt's mind was set on something, there was no turning around; yet Brandon was one of the few people who could change his mind for him. Brandon was also in casual clothes again, on his phone as he leaned against the truck.

Wyatt attempted to take a look at his phone, "What you lookin' at?"

Brandon instantly pulled his phone away, preventing him from seeing and turned it off, "None of your business."

Wyatt rolled his eyes, "Fine, fine, let's just go!"

With that he raced towards the hospital, not minding traffic in the crowded parking lot at all and leaping over the hood of a moving car. As several horns beeped at once, Brandon stayed where he was, turning on the phone one last time.

Brandon was reading the about section of the official website of the LeBay Research Lab of New York.

* * *

Rhett had adopted Gage's impatience, as well as his extreme distaste to waiting, throughout the years.

He had turned to pacing back and forth in the waiting room. He was waiting for Brandon and Wyatt, he was waiting on word of Gage's condition, he was waiting for Gage's parents (whom he had called as soon as he could.)

While Rhett was still capable of being very patient, this was one of those moments when he felt the time ticking away was unbearable. At last though, footsteps into the room caused Rhett to stop walking and turn around. Wyatt raced up to Rhett, panting heavily, "How is he?" He demanded.

"Believe me," Rhett replied, "I wish I knew."

"Patience, guys, he'll be fine."

The hardheaded youths turned to see Brandon walking into the room. He seemed just as anxious as the others, but was doing a much better job at holding it together.

Rhett though, was a different story.

"Says you..." Tears were already forming in his hazel eyes , dripping down his cheeks as his childhood memories flooded through his mind.

Wyatt put an arm around him, smiling sadly at him, "Rhett, you know Gage, he'll be great." Of course, he seemed to be trying to convince himself of that too, and started crying as well.

Emotion upon emotion, thoughts of both Gage and- other things... entangling his head, Brandon was the last to cave in. He turned from the others, outright crying for the first time in... who knew how long? Rarely the emotional type though, and branded into the ways of a cold, apathetic mother, Brandon's soft crying was nothing compared to the other two members of the team banding together behind him, finding relief in each others' embrace.

There were several minutes of this.

After a while, Brandon stopped. Still keeping a bit separate from the rest of the team, he picked up a magazine and read it at the other side of the room. Wyatt and Rhett had taken seats next to each other, and Rhett was rubbing Wyatt's back as he struggled to keep himself together. As much as Brandon wanted to be over there, with them, he kept staring at the magazine with blurred vision. He had no idea what to do to help them...

Eventually, the sound of what was pretty much a scream echoed from the hallway, causing all the boys' attentions to suddenly shift towards the entry way.

A doctor, dressed in white, was just casually looking down at his billboard when-

-" **Where is he**!? **Where's my son**?!"

The poor, unfortunate doctor had been grabbed by the collar, close to being strangled by a rather emotional looking Hispanic woman. She was wearing jeans, a light green t-shirt, and a cotton, white sweater. Her hair was short, not even reaching her neck. Brown eyes flooded with tears, jaw twisted in impatient temper, this was every Type A personality ever.

Gage had obviously inherited her impatience, as well as her extreme distaste to waiting.

The innocent doctor was basically at the mercy of someone so skinny, so small, yet so serious.

Luckily for him, she had not come alone.

"Gwen," Mr. Green also stepped into view, appearing so much more relaxed, "Maybe we should find out who our kid's doctor _actually is_ before blindly running around, making demands..."

Suddenly, her eyes brightened.

She casually let go of the shocked doctor, smiling sweetly as she waved him along, "Have a nice day, sir."

With that, suddenly appearing like a basket full of sunshine, she stepped into the waiting room. Mr. Green followed.

Several moments of silence passed. Brandon's slow, scared submergence back into his magazine was never brought up, but was indeed noticed.

After another moment or so of standing at the entrance, Gwen suddenly stomped her foot, "Man, we should have been updated by now!"

Her husband had already made himself quite comfortable in the waiting room, his feet even reclined on one of the coffee tables. "Patience, dear, nothing good is not worth waiting for."

She just threw her arm, her rage hardly hidden, "I hate waiting! I hate waiting for serious things especially, like my son! We've been at this hospital for four minutes and fifty three point eight seconds and counting, they should be faster than this! Heck, I'm going to write a written complaint to these so called doctors about how slow they are when they keep agonizing parents waiting! Heck, I'm going to sue them, becau-"

"-Dear, he's my kid too," Mr. Green spoke, "At least he's got both our good looks but, unfortunately, he inherited all _your_ bad genes. Still, he's my kid too. I'm obviously worried, but am I making a fuss over it?"

" _My_ bad genes!?" Gwen screamed at him, "What kind of- kind of- _anything **is**_ that?"

Mr Green just turned another page of his magazine, "Asks the mother who made such an undercooked meatloaf, it left her kid camping out forty eight hours in a public restroom."

Gwen stalked right up to him, yanking his magazine straight from his hand.

"Hey..." Mr. Green stood up in shock.

Gwen growled, clenching her fist, "Why, you little-"

Another doctor walked into the waiting room, reading off a billboard as he spoke, "-Is anyone associated with Gage Green in here?

Every single person instantly locked their gazes on him, eyes dilated wide as they all answered at once, "Yes."

The doctor almost seemed to smile awkwardly at the instant response. Pushing up his glasses, he looked across the room, "His parents or guardians?"

Both of Gage's parents raced up to him.

An amused smile spread across his face. He tilted his head to a direction away from the waiting room, "Follow me, please."

The most fearless member of his team, and currently apparently the most anxious, cut in from his seat, "Wait! How is he?"

Doctor and parents turned to see a wide eyed, concerned Wyatt watching them with knowledge hungry, anticipating pupils. The doctor quickly noted the similar expressions from the other two members of the team, and smiled warmly.

"The boy is going to be okay," he reported, "That gun shot is going to leave a painful wound for a while, but Tylenol is your friend. The worst worry, at this point, is infection even though the wound's been properly cleaned - twice now. He's unconscious now, but bound to wake up soo-"

Yet another doctor raced in, "-He's awake!"

* * *

The sound of of hospital machinery and the sunlight pouring through the windows were the only really notable things about the hospital room... aside the extremely comfortable bed, of course.

Sinking into a sea of pillows, wrapped up in a single layer of blanket that felt more like a cocoon, for once in his life Gage was slow to wake. Dazed eyes, a bit drowsy from the pain medication pumped into his system, stared up to the ceiling. He felt ready to just fall back asleep again, but the sound of the door opening caused his senses to begin returning to him. Still, he didn't notice his edgy mother until she was right next to the bed... when she backhanded him across the cheek.

Gage was on pain medication, so it didn't hurt. However, he still let out a shocked cry, reaching up and holding his face.

"That is for getting shot and worrying me sick!" Immediately after this, Gwen bent down and pulled him into a much softer, warm hug.

Mind in static, Gage did not respond at all, simply taking it in, as she whispered gently, "Oh, honey, I'm so happy you're okay..."

Gage's eyes caught his father, watching from the doorway. He made eye contact with Gage and pushed himself off the wall, walking up to him, "Congratulations, you have taken a bullet and survived. You are officially awesome." He offered Gage his fist.

An amused smile crossed Gage's face. Despite still being amidst his mom's deep hug, he lifted his arm and fist bumped his dad, "Thanks."

Gwen finally broke the hug, sitting on the side of the bed and rubbing one of her child's arms with nurturing care, "How do you feel?"

Gage raised a confused eyebrow, "... I don't know? Pain medication..."

His parents laughed. Gage's dad sat down in one of the chairs next to the window. Gwen still rubbed Gage's arm, "So... did the silver driver do this?"

The memory flashed across Gage's mind. The sand dunes, the heat mirages... Wyatt's plight, Gage's lack of understanding. Silver. The gun. Quick, sharp pain. Lights out. Goodnight.

"Yeah." Gage responded. His eyes widened slightly larger, remembering the impossible accomplishment Silver managed to pull: dodging a bullet.

Concern crossed Gwen's eyes, "You're going on another week of this..."

Gage bit his lip, anger crossing his eyes as he chose to vent, "I know! We should have caught him a long time ago, but-" Once again, he mind drew a blank. Green had no idea why they couldn't just... catch him.

Gwen stopped rubbing his arm and took his hand instead, "Gage, dear, I believe in you. You've already done so much, and-" Suddenly, her eyes dilated. Her mind seemed to snap somewhere else where she remembered something, "-And I left the stove running..."

Gage's dad's eyes dilated as well, "Whoops, here we go again..."

Gwen gave Gage a final, quick hug, "Love you, son! Gotta go, bye!" And she ran over, grabbed her husband's hand, and pulled him out of the room.

"Bye, Gage!" Gage's father called from down the hallway.

A moment after just staring at the door they just raced out of, Gage softly laughed. "Every day..."

* * *

The three boys just watched as Gage's parents raced past them, towards the elevator. Wyatt raised an eyebrow, "That was quick..."

"It's Gage's mom," Rhett responded as she repeatedly slammed the elevator buttons, "Of course it's quick."

The elevator door finally opened up on them. They stepped in, Gage's dad pushed one button, laid back as could be. Gwen on the other hand, shouted the millisecond between when the button was pushed and nothing happened, "Come on, you stupid door! Faster, faster, pasta's on the line here!"

As the door closed, Mr. Green shouted to the three forths of Team Hot Wheels watching them, "Your turn, kids!"

After a long moment of just staring at the closed elevator door, Brandon let out a whistle of disbelief. No longer willing to waste time, Wyatt and Rhett exchanged one look then ran towards Gage's room. Only after several seconds of thought, Brandon trailed behind them.

* * *

"Gage!" Rhett shouted from outside the door, "Buddy!"

It gave him warning to brace himself.

Buffeted by a ton of Rhett, Gage briefly lost control of his breathing. He maintained himself after a second and fondly returned the embrace. "I'm okay, buddy, I'm good..."

Gage rubbed Rhett's back as Wyatt entered the room, excitement visibly on his face, "Welcome back to the land of the living."

Rhett pulled away from Gage, both kids eyeing the stuntman. Wyatt pulled his arms up, hands resting on his head, "Eh, I knew you'd be fine!"

Rhett quickly turned to Gage, "He bawled in the waiting room."

His eyes flashed, "I did _not_!" Wyatt pulled his arms down, clenching his fist, "You can't prove nothin'!"

Rhett rolled his eyes, smiling, "Maybe I can't, but I'm sure trustworthy!"

Gage just smiled warmly as they continued to fight over whether or not Wyatt really cried or not (Gage already could tell Wyatt had.) He shook his head, then noticed Brandon stepping into the room. The blonde put his hands on their shoulders, pulling them towards the door, "Go argue somewhere else, guys."

Wyatt reacted by grabbing Rhett's shoulder, actually going out to 'argue somewhere else.' Gage just laughed at them after they were gone, Brandon smirked, turning to Gage, "Yeah, he bawled in the waiting room."

"Big softie..." Gage smiled.

A moment of silence passed between the two older members of the team.

Brandon finally spoke, "So, do you feel okay?"

Gage shrugged, "I'm on pain meds... Some of the best in the world."

Brandon let out an amused scoff, "It's good to see you're okay."

Gage smirked, "Of course I'm okay!"

Brandon and Gage shared the confident smile (less confident on Brandon's end) before the team's gadget guy nodded and turned to leave. Only after Brandon took a single step though, that Gage spoke again.

"Wait."

Brandon froze in place.

Gage had already dropped his smile, he reached beneath the blankets as he spoke, "Wyatt was right, I tore myself down."

Brandon turned slowly back to him. His fearless leader's mood had suddenly changed from that of cheer to one of worry, "I'm going to be out of action for a while. Even if the doctors don't push it, my parents will..."

Sudden panic exploded, adrenaline rushing through Brandon's body. The fact that this was the first time he even realized made him want to facepalm, scream, and wail all at the same time. A master of composure, however, he managed to keep calm. Only that sudden brightness in his eyes showed he was close to panic. "Uh..."

Gage sighed. Beneath the blankets, he placed his hand lightly against the spot of his wound. His brown eyes darted there, then back to Brandon, "I'm so sorry... I have to ask a favor from you, Brand-Oh."

For another moment, confusion ran through Brandon's ever so brilliant mind. It was only when Gage continued that he got it, "You're the only one I can trust while I'm out like this..."

Okay, now a bit more of a reaction came from Brandon. Jaw down, he raised his hands in front of him, "Wait- you really..."

Gage's eyes never seemed so pleading in his life, "You're mature, professional on the field, an-"

"-No!" Brandon almost shouted, dread building up even more every second, "No, I can't."

Now it was Gage's turn to be confused, "You're the oldest..."

Brandon had to move somehow, to escape this physical pressure the mental strains had on him. He walked over to the window. Outside, a blue jay rested on the branch of a cherry tree in the hospital garden. Strong and mighty, the fact that this majestic bird was the LeBay company's symbol crossed his mind, only reminding him of the important job decision looming over his head. Even more pressure added to the boy, Brandon turned his head from the window, back to Gage, "I can't do it. Not like you do it. You're amazing..."

Gage sighed, pulling his hand away from his wound and slipping his hands over the sheets, "I'm not asking you to do it like me. All I ask is that you provide them direction until I can again. This is only temporary-"

"-What? Like Larry leaving was quick too?" A scoff escaped Brandon as he rested his hands on the window sill, leaning against it.

Gage frowned, "We've never managed to hear from him even once... When is he getting back?"

Brandon sighed, sweat collecting on his forehead, "Like I know, nobody knows! Gage, trust me, this is the worst time for me to assume a sudden responsibility like this..."

"Brandon, please," Gage pleaded once more, "You're the only one I can trust to do this. Nothing against the other two, but they don't have the reasoning skills you have. Not to mention, you took the lead before."

Brandon shook his head as Gage pressed harder, "You made the calculations to get us through the Super Loop, you guided us through the SpinStorm..."

Brandon bit his lip, squeezing the air conditioned window sill.

"Brandon, I don't want to put pressure on you. You do a lot worse under pressure than me, but push has come to shove, and I need you to do this."

Brandon looked out the window again, and with decent timing too. He just caught the blue jay spreading its wings. As it flew away, several pink petals floating slowly to the ground, Brandon sighed. Head lowered, he knew he really had no time to think it over. As scatterbrained, emotionally edgy, and oppressed as he felt, he knew this was something he had to do. Whether or not it was horrifically timed, he knew now was not the time to fail them. Besides, this was only for a little bit, right? Gage would recover soon, right?

Reluctant as he was, he raised his head, making the decision.

"I'll do it."

Over at the bed, Gage smiled in relief, "Thank you, Brandon..."

His blond hair covered his eyes, so Gage would not catch the uncertainty in them. As much as Brandon was at least somewhat confident in his abilities, being a leader was not one of them. Brandon could hand out orders, sure, but Gage was so much more than just handing out orders. The way he carried himself, his abilities to contain his emotions and band them together, raise their morel in the worst of situations. He had it as long as he knew him, and Brandon highly respected him for it... especially because he didn't have it. Even more, this really was a nightmarish place to pick this up. His family and his own job decision were haunting him all day, threatening to make him sick. Tuesday was drawing to an end, and he had until Friday to answer that critical question - yes or no. Change nothing or everything... As much problems as simply taking the job and moving could solve, especially problems within his family, he had a huge lot to lose.

None the less, he still had to do this. Every day, Gage was so selfless in his decision making, and he always put himself second. These last several weeks certainly proved where he was willing to go as a leader. It was one of his best qualities, and Brandon could at least try to do it himself and give Gage a break. Poor kid certainly needed it! Besides, Brandon knew Wyatt and Rhett... at least he knew Wyatt. Would he be able to communicate to them since he knew them both since first grade?

For all his uncertainty, Brandon's voice was calm and stern, "You can count on me."


	9. Chapter IX - Sunshine

**A/N:**

 **Flashbacks! Backstories! Yay! Grab some tissues because you may cry... meh, my writings never make people cry :P At least I tried... ...**

 **I was originally going to feature more flashbacks in here, but with how long it was becoming I divided this into two chapters. The chapter titles both nod to the _You Are My Sunshine_ song. **

**I hope the lighthearted flashbacks get some good laughs, I tried to make these funny yet heartfelt. So yeah.**

 **Enjoy!**

 **~ Ashla.**

* * *

The door creaked open.

Brandon had his chin in his palm, trying not to rest his eyes - or tear up with his eyes - as he stared at the screens - kind of - again. Rhett had stayed at the hospital to visit his childhood friend more before heading straight home, it was late enough in the day. That meant only one person could have opened the door...

"I'll watch the cameras tonight."

Brandon pulled his head lazily from his palm, slowly turning to see Wyatt walking up to him with two mugs of some type of hot beverage. Wyatt handed one to Brandon, "Looks like 'ya need it."

Brandon took the steaming, warm cup of... his favorite kind of tea. Green herbal tea with honey. Brandon smiled up at Wyatt, who carelessly leaned against the control panel, sipping black coffee. Brandon smirked, "What are you, our official cup bearer?"

"Well..." Wyatt mischievously rolled his eyes, "Somebody's got to do it with Jerry gone. Not to mention, slowly waiting for the opportunity to ask Rhett that fatal question..."

They both spoke at once, " _Would you like a beverage_?"

Amused chuckles escaped them, taking some form of heavy weight off Brandon's burdened chest. The fact that Wyatt knew his favorite tea also made what was a crappy day feel a little bit better. But weren't things always that way? That self centered stuntman always found a way to make him smile. It was there since the first day they met - well, the first day Brandon met all of them. There was just something about that insolent smirk that made him feel so much more determined. It was Wyatt, after all, who taught Brandon to develop a backbone. An insecure childhood would have left him so much more of a doormat, but now Brandon was capable of keeping his head high in the face of... most pressure...

Wyatt took another sip of coffee, "Go home, forgit' studying and get some sleep."

Brandon sighed, "I'm not as ahead as I should be..."

"In school as well as sleep." Wyatt glared at him, "You and Gage both need better nighttime habits."

Brandon shook his head, "Especially with Larry gone, since this whole thing with Silver started, it's been hard."

Wyatt gripped his cup, fresh anger spewing from the volcano, "That guy's a psychopathic jerk..."

Concern filled Brandon's azure eyes, "Are you okay? You got beat up pretty bad."

Wyatt shrugged, "I'll manage. I've been through worse..."

Instantly, the road pirate incident crossed both their minds. Wyatt shut his eyes, wincing to remove the painful memories from his mind. Brandon couldn't help but wonder, was Wyatt also offering to take the cameras because of his mental plight? Brandon could literally see the unhealthy thoughts running through Wyatt's mind. The bright, burning sun was at the edge of a solar eclipse. More than physically, that silver freak had managed to poison Wyatt's mind.

It made Brandon feel more determined to catch him than ever. Wyatt was his best friend, and nobody did that to him. It was mental doubt, more than anything else, that pushed Wyatt over the edge. To this day, as hard as he tried to fight it, Wyatt's inner struggle with "proving himself" was there. It was like his worth was measured by what he could do. About a year after the road pirate incident, it was still a struggle to break.

Brandon sighed, getting up and motioning Wyatt to take his place, "Do I have to explain how the cameras works again?"

Wyatt shook his head, sitting down in the seat, his coffee sloshing around in his mug, "I've got this."

Brandon smiled, placing his hand on his shoulder, "Hey, Wyatt?"

Wyatt looked up at him.

"When Gage said you didn't have to prove anything to us," Brandon told him, "He meant that."

With nothing else he thought he could say, Brandon went to leave. His footsteps slow, he did smile as he closed out, "Good luck, stay awake."

Silence filled the room as Brandon walked away, his tea still in his hands. When he reached for the doorknob and pulled the door open, Wyatt spoke up.

"Brandon?"

He stopped dead silent, simply staying there as he kept an ear open.

"Thank you, I needed that."

Wyatt's usually strong and cocky voice was filled with just enough mellow earnesty, he meant it. Brandon pulled his tea up to his lips, just to avoid the choking sounds of him trying not to get emotional. With an important decision, one that could separate them for unspeakable miles dead ahead, Brandon lowered his cup, feeling it was about time he said it, "It was always you who made me feel better," the gadget guy said, "You taught me how to stand up for myself. I owe you for that."

"No," Wyatt shook his head, eyes still glued to the screens, "You've done more than enough..."

Brandon looked back at him, watching his back as he diligently kept his post, "But still..." Brandon said, "Thank you... For everything."

* * *

 _*Slam!*_

 _After closing the book, he placed it back on the shelf. The library was quiet and... really dusty. The small boy, nothing but skin and bones, sneezed into his baggy sleeve. His hair over his face, the six year old reached and grabbed another book. His professor had decided to combine history and science class for today, and to throw PE into the mix. It was simple, walk to the library (PE), pick out an old science book (history), and pick out all the scientific inaccuracies they discovered since that old book was written (science.) Brandon was looking for something as early as the nineteenth century, a century when modern science went through its big bang, but was having little luck._

 _Professor Gilderoy Broderick constantly told Brandon he had to get outside more, at least to study. But the birds, wind, and other little nitpicks always distracted him. Of course, that clever Professor finally came up with sending him to walk to a boring library. Why not just take a bus? It wasn't the seventeen hundreds anymore, there were easier and more efficient ways to travel! What was so important about physical education anyways? Knowledge was all that mattered, especially to someone who was growing up under the shadow of science. Under the influence of the legacy of a scientist at the top of her game..._

 _Brandon opened yet another book, kind of caught up in the tinkering isle (because inventions and nick knacks were epic.) As he buried his head into a diagram of the pulley, he heard voices from further down the isle._

 _"Oh yeah, that's what you think!"_

 _"Shut yer mouth, Gage, I-"_

 _In the public library, a place of "peace and quiet," the sound of two kids physically punching and kicking each other was unmistakable. Annoyance brewing to the top, Brandon almost shouted for them to stop. However, he stopped himself. Those were strangers, rude strangers but still strangers. What was his place to tell them what to do? It was never his place to even_ ask _anybody what to do... His mother made sure she taught him that. Taught him his place. He simply buried his head further into the book, taking out his annoyance by rashly turning the page, it just continued._

 _"Stop!" A third voice pleaded, "Stop 'pwease? Gage?"_

 _Before anything else could happen, Brandon felt another body wham into him. It sent them both crashing to the carpeted floor. That third voice screamed at the collision... Brandon just moaned, "Ow..."_

 _"Oh my gosh," a voice cried, "I'm so, so sorry!"_

 _"Yeah, Gage," the person laying next to Brandon shouted, "'Ya better be!"_

 _"Not you," whoever it was said with a tinge of annoyance. Still rubbing his head, Brandon squinted his eyes open and saw him. It was a small, Hispanic boy with short, brown hair. His brown eyes were quite apologetic, "You okay, dude? I'm so sorry!"_

 _He was wearing jeans and a green shirt with the number eight on it. His apparel practically screamed that he was a race fan. Brandon took his hand, letting him pull him back to his feet. The voice of the kid who was shoved into him rang loud and clear, "Yeah, I would apologize too, but it's not my fault!"_

 _Brandon turned to see a rather skinny, but the physically toned type of skinny, boy. His short hair and green eyes made for a naturally good looking kid, but the major thing that caught his attention was how many bruises and scratches covered him. Scarring on his face made him look like an experienced warrior, aside one band-aid on his knee. Even for someone who only appeared to be six, his arms had more muscle than meat on him. He was no body builder, not yet anyways, but he obviously had zero health problems aside what he did to himself. These two kids just glared at each other, oak eyes meeting emerald in burning, passionate hatred. Hatred. These kids obviously hated each other with a burning passion in their hearts._

 _Gage let go of Brandon, arms crossed as he talked down to his adversary, "Well, you started it, Wyatt!"_

 _"I did not!" Wyatt shouted back in a southern accent usually not heard around these parts, "Come up to me and prove it!"_

 _And just like that, Gage ran up to him and they started brawling again. Brandon could, only for a moment, process who and what on earth he had just run into. Another moment following though, as Brandon just stood there watching them fight, a third kid walked up to Brandon, also watching the fight. The chubby boy had hazel eyes and messy, red hair that really needed a good trim. His red t-shirt and grey sweat pants were wrinkled, suggesting that this was the second day in a row he was wearing them. His expression as he watched the other boys was that of uncertainty. In a slightly off key, but still concerned tone, he spoke._

 _"Yeah..." He blinked, "They always like this."_

 _Brandon raised an eyebrow, another wave of annoyance gushing over him. He wanted to get as far away from these hooligans as fast as he could. Before he could say or do anything though, instincts gave him a sudden warning that danger was behind him. He and the redhead turned slowly, noticing a large, towering woman breathing down their necks. Brandon's eyes widened, noticing the name tag of a librarian._

 _The redhead chuckled nervously, "Uh... Heh, heh. Hi, uh..." He turned and shouted to the others, "Gage, company!"_

 _The fist fighting children turned to see the librarian. She glared at them, her pulled down glasses topping off her size to make her even more terrifying. All at once, the four children screamed._

 _"RUN!"_

 _"This way," Gage shouted, pointing towards the direction of the library entrance, "Follow me!"_

 _For reasons Brandon could not understand or explain, he did. The quartet immediately raced towards the doors, dropping any books or anything else they had. Well, there went Brandon's history and science classes for the day... PE sure seemed to be good today though._

 _"Faster!" Gage shouted, "We're almost there!"_

 _And they burst into the sunlight of the city._

 _They didn't stop there though, nope. They kept going. Brandon was at the tail of the line of little boys running for their lives... even if it was just the adrenaline rushes pushing them, as they long lost the mad librarian. They eventually stopped when the exhausted redhead called to the others, "Gage, can't run! Stop!"_

 _With that, right there on the sidewalk, everyone plopped onto the ground, desperately catching their breath. Brandon could not recall ever... exercising... like that once in his life. His voice almost gone from his burning throat, Brandon hoarsely spoke up, "I'm sweating..."_

 _After several more moments of panting, Wyatt jumped back up, as excited as a puppy who's owner stepped through the door. "That was awesome!"_

 _Brandon and the redhead exchanged expressions that said it all: they wished they had his radiant energy._

 _Gage scoffed, wiping his forehead, "It took a lot of effort, but we're alive. *Whew!*"_

 _After more panting, everyone started to laugh._

 _"So that's what danger feels like?" Brandon asked._

 _"Hey," the redhead asked, "What your name?"_

 _Brandon turned to face the kid, confusion on his face._

 _The boy just beamed as he spoke, "Rhett's my name!"_

 _"I'm Gage." The Hispanic boy threw in._

 _"Wyatt!" The final kid smirked. He thumped his fist and pointed and Brandon, "And don't 'ya forget it! Cause I'm gonna be a famous model someday!"_

 _Gage burst out laughing, "Oh, you going to woo them over with what? Your accent?"_

 _Wyatt growled, turning his attention to Gage, "I'll have you know my grammy gram says I get it from my momma!"_

 _Brandon looked around, noticing all the signs, the buildings, and he realized... he had no idea where he was._

 _"Um..." He piped in, "Help?"_

 _"What wrong?" Rhett, who once again had just been watching Gage and Wyatt argue, asked him._

 _Brandon continued to look around, "Where are we?"_

 _Wyatt responded, "I'd say this looks like seventy three east Call Street."_

 _Brandon nervously turned to the child with southern roots, "I'm lost."_

 _Wyatt's emerald eyes shone with surprise and concern, "Well, where'd 'ya live?"_

 _Like a calculator producing the answer to a math problem, Brandon recited his exact address. With that in the southerner's mind, Wyatt smiled, "Hey, that's next 'ta the road my doctor's office is at! I go there all the time. I can take 'ya. I have excellent navigational skills, 'ya know."_

 _"Yeah, right." Gage scoffed._

 _With a little more edge, Wyatt added in, "What, for a while away from Gage..."_

 _Gage clenched his fist, "Wyatt!"_

 _Before they could argue yet again, Rhett grabbed Gage's shoulder, pulling him away, "'Kay, have fun!"_

 _As he pulled Gage away, Rhett looked back at them, waving with this massive smile on his face, "See you, uh-..."_

 _They all stopped, realizing that they did not know this new kid's name. With all curious eyes on him, the blond shyly responded, "Brandon."_

 _"Oh." Rhett smiled again, "See you, Bwandon!"_

 _With that, Rhett skipped away, down the side walk. Gage followed, a lot more chill with his hands in his pockets. They walked away, conversing in a friendly manner. Wyatt smiled at Brandon, his short, messy black hair bouncing, "Come on, this way!"_

 _Wyatt hummed as he turned and walked the opposite way. Brandon simply followed, his neutral, reserved face unchanged._

* * *

Driving home in his blue car, Brandon smiled upon looking back to those memories. He had felt like an alien to them, and they like an alien to him especially. Even if a young Rhett had given him hopeful nudges of them possibly meeting up in the future, a single introvert upon a trio of extroverts, Brandon had still been hoping that that be their final meeting.

How ironic it was, as Brandon drove home, the way he went was not the quickest or easiest route. Whenever he drove or walked home (to this day walking was rare for him though,) he took the route Wyatt had guided him home down that first day. The conversation that had been carried out was a fond one. A narcissist if anyone ever met one, Wyatt had consumed a lot of the conversation bragging about how awesome he was. It was only towards the end of that conversation that Brandon's new friendship, his first friendship, was forged with the most unlikely of people.

And to this day, it somehow worked.

* * *

 _"... Say, you got any friends?"_

 _Brandon was pulled out of staring into space when, for once, this Wyatt kid spoke of something aside himself. Brandon only stared at him as they walked down the street. The same, default face on him the entire time. After several moments of silence between them walking down the sidewalk, under the evening sun, Brandon spoke, "I study a lot, really never took time for friends."_

 _Wyatt's eyes shone with a shaded emotion, one Brandon could hardly read. Wyatt was walking backwards, looking at the scrawny kid he literally ran into at the library, "So you have no friends?"_

 _Brandon shrugged, looking up to the pink sky, "No."_

 _Wyatt gave Brandon a sad expression, "Same."_

 _Brandon's head snapped back at him, surprise washing over him, "But... What about the others at the library?"_

 _Wyatt shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets, "I just follow Gage around 'cause I hate his guts and someday I'll fine'ly teach him his place... Rhett's his buddy, so..."_

 _"So you run around purposely annoying them?" Brandon asked._

 _Wyatt narrowed his eyes in confusion, "I mess with Gage, but Rhett's okay. Weird, but okay."_

 _Brandon scoffed, 'weird' was right... Something was just off about that kid. None the less, this kid also apparently had zero friends. For different reasons, obviously, but still. The two eyed each other with surprising sympathy. For all his unlovable traits, Brandon saw something more in him in that moment._

How insecure are you, really?

 _Wyatt attempted to smile, "Another block or so to go."_

 _"Good," Brandon's rare wit seeped through, "Because I'm sweating."_

 _Wyatt chuckled, "Was that... personality there?"_

 _"Uh..." Brandon instantly slipped back into his inverted shell._

 _Wyatt smiled, "I like you already."_

 _Brandon didn't reply. They were at the edge of the sidewalk, and Wyatt unknowingly stepped onto the dark road. Brandon saw it, a zaffre car running past the speed limit... straight for it. Eyes widened, Brandon surprised himself when he reached out, grabbing Wyatt by his white shirt, pulling him back to the sidewalk just in the nick of time, "Watch where you're going!"_

 _As the sound of the car carelessly passing sounded, Wyatt's green eyes widened in sudden understanding. Brandon let him go, and they stared at each other a second more._

 _For the first time since he met any of them, Brandon smiled._

* * *

Yep, there was that very sidewalk, that very road right there. Brandon chuckled as he drove safely by. He devolved back into further memories as he went past the next block.

* * *

 _As they continued walking, all eyes in front of them this time around, Wyatt said his name, "Brandon, was it?"_

 _"Yes." Brandon responded, looking at him._

 _"Maybe..." Wyatt started, obviously not used to asking such things, "Maybe we could be friends?"_

 _Instantly, the conversation from several minutes earlier crossed his mind. Brandon looked back on ahead again, confusion crossing Brandon's face, "Why?"_

 _Wyatt spoke shyly, "Well, we both seem to not have any. Why not have each other?" Wyatt shrugged, "I don't know how this friendship thing works, but who knows? Maybe it could be good?"_

 _Brandon stopped, watching Wyatt as he too came to a stop, "I don't think I'd be the best... friend ever, Wyatt. I'm not friend material."_

 _Wyatt hopefully pursued him, "Brandon, I'm a jerk. Saying something bad about my awesome, hot self is against my protocol, but I'm a jerk. I'll be a terrible friend, but you just said you'd be too..." He smiled, "We could develop, we could - uh - ..." He whispered the next part, "Like I need improvement..."_

 _Brandon snickered, Wyatt needed nothing but improvement... but maybe it was the reason to say yes. The words of Brandon's professor rang through his mind._ "Those who are the least lovable are those who need loved the most."

 _Brandon spoke, "So, it's two jerks, against the world, trying to be something we can't naturally?" A shy smile half made it on his face, "The scientific method consists in experimentation and making mistakes, so."_

 _"The scientific methane does extra-wut, now?"_

 _Brandon rolled his eyes, this guy had zero clue... but the sudden excitement of finally finding a 'friend,' whatever those were, caused him to pull his hand into a fist, putting it in front of him, "Friends?"_

 _Wyatt's eyes brightened. He instantly smirked triumphantly, his overconfidence and massive ego shining brighter than the sun. That was something Brandon realized he liked about him, he carried himself in a victorious manner. Wyatt clenched his fists, grinning ear to ear, "Friends we are, baby!"_

 _They fist bumped, sealing the deal._

 _Brandon had a friend._

 _It was the beginning of something amazing, he just knew it..._

* * *

Brandon smiled softly. The following years, they went through a lot of trial and error. Taking up hobbies like car watching and helping Wyatt do his homework (being two grades above him at that time, it was a piece of cake to LeBay,) Brandon suddenly stepped into a larger world. Indeed, a huge amount of it Brandon spent beneath his shell still. Wyatt, a dare devil and risk taker to the T, constantly pulled him into misadventures he never wanted to be in, his narcissistic nature causing him to unmeaningfully use him. From the start, it was always an unfair deal with Wyatt. With how much Brandon felt more alive though, he tagged along as Wyatt constantly ran into Gage and Rhett, often times clashing with the race car fan head to head as Brandon and Rhett watched from the sidelines.

As he hung around the three of them, Brandon found out more about them. Gage's obsession with speed was instantly noticeable, a desperate urge to go even faster causing Brandon to scratch his forehead. Rhett was quite odd, especially back in the early days, for odd speech and constant confusion on things that should of been common knowledge. Brandon never liked him, but Gage was right there beside him. He guided him when he was confused and furiously protected him when he was commonly bullied. It was a close bond they had shared as toddlers, before meeting Wyatt on the first day of first grade. Brandon and Gage quickly grew onto each other, but their different relationships with Wyatt prevented them from bonding much. In fact, shock and pleasant amusement crossed everyone's mind when Wyatt reacted to them reading a book together with jealousy. Responding with any form of concern to a human being aside himself was extremely rare back then.

Rhett's lisp eventually faded away, and Brandon slowly was becoming a little more open. While Brandon would slowly change in his opinion on Rhett, back then he visibly did not enjoy his company. Brandon's personality wasn't much though, as emotionless, empty eyes were only replaced with cynical, judgmental side comments. At the same time though, Wyatt loved Brandon's growing sarcasm even when he used it on him.

 _"You're finally breaking outta yer' shell, baby!"_ He whooped.

Things continued on casually, a dysfunctional but happy quartet building up at the speed of a sloth. A lot of fighting happened back then, but within their mini-cliques that came in two's; Wyatt and Brandon's bond, as well as Gage and Rhett's, continued to grow.

The first time a true act of friendship between Wyatt and Brandon would happen though was when they were eight (Wyatt) and nine (Brandon.)

... On March 28th.


	10. Chapter X - When Skies Are Grey

**A/N:**

 **Aaaaaangst! Y dew I dew dis? :( Does this fanfiction exist just to torture these beautiful characters? What am I doing!? Last chapter was so happy! *Sobs* I'm a moooonsteeeeeeeeeer!**

 **...**

 **This is the last full flashback chapter. Once again, I originally was going to do just one, but it was waaayyyyyyyyy too long so I wrote two. I actually like it better with them separated. Sets the different moods better.**

 **Grab some tissues, you may cry... oh wait, I can't make people cry. Well... I don't know, feel sympathetic for these poor guys!**

 **So yeah... enjoy reading? Maybe? Possibly? Thank you.**

 **~ Ashla.**

* * *

 _A flash of light shone in the clouded sky for a moment before fading away. The sound of thunder cracking was unmistakable. Rain poured, it poured as heavy as the tears falling from his eyes. Drenched from the downpour, but he was hardly caring. He couldn't see very well past his blond hair, which was covering his eyes. He had never cried this hard in his life, and up until the present point in our story, never would again. He did not watch the empty sidewalks, he let himself fall in the cocoon made of solid ice, numb to the world._

 _What he had just gone through was unspeakable._

 _He had no idea where he was, or where he was going. Quite frankly he did not care. Tears still somehow drenching his face more than the pounding rain, he hugged himself as he vibrated in shakes. He had desperately needed to get away, and was in the direct path of letting himself go. Slow footsteps, he was not watching where he was going at all. On an old sidewalk, an elevated sidewalk dead ahead, he fell over it, catching himself by the hands as he braced his fall. The feeling of skin tearing under the sharp pavement was easily noticeable, same with the pain. Did it take just that to make him stop sobbing? After a moment of feeling his hands throb, lying motionless on the ground, he pulled himself to his knees. He slowly pulled his palms towards him. Indeed, he was bleeding. Bleeding. Blood was coming up on his hands, made it feel like blood was on his hands even more. As more thunder roared in the clouded sky, he stared in silent fear of his hands, until..._

 _"-Brandon!?"_

 _Brandon's eyes flashed up. From beyond his own hair, he recognized that person instantly, more from the accent than from what he could see._

 _A moment of horrified silence passed. Wyatt was stunned, Brandon was so numb he couldn't find the remaining strength to care. As the rain poured, a third voice cut in. Elderly, gentle, but shocked, his grandmother cried out, "Oh dear, are you okay, sweetie?"_

* * *

 _A towel was thrown onto his drenched head. No hope for his soaked through clothes, at least they could take care of his hair. So Wyatt did just that. Much rougher than what he may have meant, the southerner rustled his damp hair, "Here we go..."_

 _Brandon never used a hairdryer, so this was the first time. For all he could tell, the hot breeze of warm air was enough to actually soothe him. When Wyatt stopped, still using the brush to get his hair in its usual position, the usually aggressive kid smiled softly, "There. Better!"_

 _A slob to the T, Wyatt carelessly hung the hair dryer and tossed the hairbrush onto the bathroom sink. Brandon really didn't respond much, just looked blankly into the mirror with exhaustion. Wyatt crossed his arms, raising his eyebrow at the water from his clothes soaking through the towels on the floor, "I might still have my old clothes lyin' around..."_

 _Recently, Wyatt had hit a bit of a growth spurt, mostly from his increasing interest and partaking in weight lifting. He was developing a lot stronger upper body strength - not like he wasn't healthy enough to begin with - and already was in different clothes than he was last summer. Of course, while Gage refused to admit it, Rhett had slipped the info to Brandon that he secretly was becoming more nervous around him. Still, it was only last year that this started, and there was a good chance that Wyatt had an old shirt and pants somewhere around the house._

 _Wyatt held out his arms, motioning Brandon to stay where he was, "I'll be right back. Don't move, don't ruin our floor." With that, he left the bathroom, calling to his grandmother, "Grammy Gram?"_

 _Brandon did not move at all. As much as that dryer had been nice, he was still too haunted to care how cold and wet he was. Too distracted by the terrible memories, worthy of months of night terrors, to give any notice too how poor of a condition he was in. It was certainly good that somebody cared though, and he walked in with a set of dry clothes, "You can keep 'em if 'ya like, they really don't fit me."_

 _He set them neatly on the sink counter, pushing his black hair, which surely was increasing in length, behind his ears. He gave Brandon another smile, "Come down when 'yur done." He sang a bit as he walked out, "Grammy Gram's makin' cookies!"_

 _As the door closed, Brandon cast one look in that direction and then to the clothes. Brandon's first thought:_ Who cares about some dumb, heated mixture of dough and chocolate?

 _None the less, he was functioning enough to slowly tug at his buttoned shirt. Depression made a simple clothes change a dragging chore._

* * *

 _Brandon stepped down the stairs slowly, hair once again falling over his face. He was wearing a pair of sweatpants and Wyatt's black t-shirt with a smiling, yellow sun on it._

 _Oh, the irony. It was enough to literally kill._

 _Having already been here many times, as he never let Wyatt come over to his house (for reasons,) he walked into the living room. Wyatt was sitting on the couch, staring off into space. Wow, what a rare sight. A thrill seeker usually determined to cram in as much adrenaline releasing, heart pounding activities as possible into his life was staring off into space... and his face was melancholy. Brandon noticed he was holding a small photo in his hand, too small to even clearly see from across the room. Even with his other hand propping his chin up, he slowly clenched the picture in the palm of his hand, squeezing it as he closed his eyes in... was that longing?_

 _Brandon had never seen him like this before. Never. For several years spent as friends, this was the first time he saw him like this. A part of Brandon wanted to scream at him for being completely out of character, scaring him in his vulnerability, but there was that apathetic part of him too... that was glad he was not the only one feeling down this evening._

 _As the rain pounded on the windows, making the outside world a blur, only the sound of the clock ticking and one or two thunder cracks here and there, Brandon watched Wyatt reminisce to himself with ocean dark, empathetic eyes. His bony hand against the entrance arch, he squeezed the white wall. Several minutes passed, Wyatt didn't even notice Brandon was there. The western rooted boy opened his green eyes, looking down at his clenched fist. He slowly unraveled his hand; deep, desperate eyes gazing into the photo in his palm, "I'll find you..." His whisper was so... unusual for someone usually so peppy and adventurous._

 _He mumbled another word to himself. Despite the fact it was a single syllable word, it was too low to hear well. A single tear fell from emerald orbs, causing more fear to settle into the intellectual prodigy's heart. This was so unlike Wyatt. Unlike three years of that narcissistic but bold and lovable jerk who rivaled Gage and stupidly still regularly got close to rattlesnakes. For all this worry though, Brandon suddenly realized something..._

 _Didn't Wyatt think he was alone right now?_

 _Without anyone else watching him, without anyone else to impress, without anyone to somehow prove himself to, the opportunities to either live up or mess up were not immediately jumped to. Without anyone watching the bragging fool to either judge him or bathe him in the impressed applause and praise that fueled his whole being, Wyatt was free to loosen up... Wyatt was free to cry. By himself, it was suddenly obvious. With all the times Brandon hid so many things about himself, his less appreciative traits, away from both his mom and friends, it was no wonder repressed emotions were unleashed. A quickly angered kid could have deceiving motives. What if Wyatt felt more pain than hate? Like Brandon had an opinion as a whole, and never shared it... This was the perfect image of the act of hiding emotions and personality from the world. It was a game healthy as crystal meth, and it was a game Brandon was a master of._

 _He played it every second of every day._

 _And here Wyatt was, partaking in those same, self defeating festivities. These festivities would continue to rule Wyatt's very relationships and ego for another six years, until they finally came back to bite him. Carried away in both high self esteem and extreme insecurities, he would turn his back on the people he spent years with and descend into a lonesome darkness, a fake heroic gig, just to be proven wrong when he was captured and used as bait against the very people he'd betray. Of course though, we all already know that story and remember it well, happy ending included... But at this point in time, the events involving the Epic Race were but a distant future._

 _Back to the living room occupied by two angst ridden children, Brandon decided to announce his presence in the room. He knocked to archway he was previously leaning on several times. Wyatt instantly snapped his head towards the door. Upon noticing it was Brandon, his friend Brandon, his demeanor snapped back to his usual. And his friend, Wyatt's best friend, was completely fine to play along. Play the fake game, pretend that weakness did not exist. That the last five minutes did not exist. Were they not children after all? In a world of childish innocence and unfamiliarity with reality, whatever hardcore reality could sink in would permanently scar, but even the young could hide it better than the elders of age and wisdom. Even cases like Brandon understood the deception of childish games and reality's fangs, and the simple boy was drowning in the stormy waves._

 _And here he was, he had just discovered he was not the only one. The child countered it with more child's play and denial. Despite the horrors of war, any kid's naive thinking would always point to some good in everybody. In Wyatt's case, no stories had sad endings. It would end happy every time with enough determination. He smiled brightly at the friend he thought only just entered the room, hadn't caught him showing any of his bad traits. The southern born boy motioned Brandon to sit down on the couch, beckoning him to engage in the innocence of their usual young laughter. For the sake of such innocence, even if just about lost upon the sword of the images still plaguing his mind, a weary Brandon rested on the couch._

 _Still, even the one track minded kids knew something darker, something older, was in the air._

 _After several moments of silence - silence spent on Wyatt slipping his unknown photo into his pocket without letting Brandon know of its existence - Wyatt's grandmother stepped into the room carrying a plate of cookies. Happily humming to herself as she set the tray on, the aroma of the heated mixture of dough and chocolate invaded Wyatt's nose, causing him to raise the white flag, "Can I have two?"_

 _She fixed him with a stern, but warm and even amused face, "You know the rules, honey, no more than one cookie after six."_

 _The terms and conditions noted, Wyatt pulled a single cookie off the tray and smiled gratefully at his faithful guardian, "Thank you, Grammy Gram. I love you, Grammy Gram!"_

 _"Grammy Gram loves you too." The elderly woman rustled his hair, earning several soft chuckles from her grandson, and left the room._

 _Brandon took no notice of the cookies, he even slightly pushed the plate away before falling back into the couch. Sinking beneath the several pillows, he sighed, "Not hungry..."_

 _Wyatt was nibbling slowly at his cookie, savoring the flavor of his grandmother's drop of sunshine in a baked good. He looked over to a depressed Brandon, his smile dropping, "Not even a little?"_

 _This time, Brandon did not respond. The child simply stared off into distant, cold space. He was obviously lost, obviously alone in the whirling vacuum of space. What he needed was a bright star to light the path. What he needed was sunshine... when skies were grey._

 _"Are you okay, Brandon?" Wyatt asked._

 _Brandon, once again, remained silent._

 _Wyatt sighed, some of that previous sadness from before Brandon was present returning. He looked away, eyes narrowed in thought._

 _"Rough day? The rain is pouring enough."_

 _The thunder rumbling outside actually was a background, soothing noise by now. The windows were still not clear from the still falling rain. The rain was absolute misery. Wyatt set his cookie on the coffee table, inching closer to Brandon, "Did something happen? Are you alrigh-"_

 _-Wyatt, I don't pester you about your problems!" Brandon shouted, suddenly changing from quiet to spitfire in his raging emotions, "Why don't you bug off about mine?!"_

 _That being one of the few times Brandon had screamed ever, Wyatt pulled away from him, eyes wide. Of course, easily a defensive person who insisted on his own perfection, Wyatt clenched his fist, "I have problems? No, I don't!"_

 _All Brandon could do now was glare at him. It was like simply staring at him would make him disappear. Did he forget that this was Wyatt though? Wyatt did not back out that easily. However, after a moment of selfish defense, Wyatt remembered just what he was after, and softly inched closer to Brandon again, "Brandon, you never do that..."_

 _"Do what?"_

 _"Scream."_

 _Another moment of silence passed between them, Brandon's face softened up as he looked away, towards the windows, "Sorry..."_

 _Wyatt also looked away from him, towards a same window as he squeezed his hands insecurely. He knew what he had to say, "... I'm not gonna pester you or anything. It's your life, I don't have 'ta know. However, whateva' your dealin' with, you don't have to do it so... this way-ish?"_

 _"What?" Brandon was officially confused._

 _Wyatt smiled, looking at Brandon, "'Ya know, when yur forced to do library reading with a nerd, 'ya learn a lot. Like, do you know what yur name means?"_

 _Brandon raised an eyebrow, "Means?"_

 _Wyatt's eyes sparkled with that wild ingenuity of his, "'Sword.' The name Brandon stands for 'sword.' Swords are some of the most effective weapons out there, and they're so simple. A hunk of sharp metal attached to a hairbrush handle. Neat, huh?"_

 _Brandon's expression said enough that he was pretty engaged in his little language arts lesson, Wyatt continued, "You're always so shy, Brandon. You step out of yur shell when you have so much to become. Yeah, you're a part of a scientific research group that excels in science, but that's not what I mean. I mean as a person. Yeah, a sword's a good tool, but it needs regularly sharpened and cared for to be effective." He smiled, "Where is that in you? Look, it's okay to be quiet, but it's not okay to be a doormat. I can totally see you're a doormat, Brandon."_

 _Brandon raised an eyebrow as Wyatt stood up. He motioned Brandon to do the same, "Get up."_

 _Brandon got up._

 _Wyatt facepalmed, "Doormat 'ta the T..."_

 _Brandon was currently so confused. Thankfully, Wyatt was getting to his explanation, "You never take care of yourself, 'ya never eat 'cause yur too busy studying, you're an easy pushover with zero backbone and that outta change. Dang it, Brandon, if I can't even come over to yur house from time to time then I'm at least callin' from the phone! We have to fix this!"_

 _"Excuse me?" Brandon pulled himself into a self protective hug, "I don't..."_

 _Wyatt placed a hand on his shoulder, "You ain't as much of a lone wolf as 'ya think, or at least want to be. I'm right here. That's what friends are 'fur, right?"_

And he was. He was like a friend, he was right there. It was soon enough apparent not just to Wyatt, but to everybody that Brandon was becoming increasingly depressed. But once again, Wyatt did not back out that easy. He never asked Brandon just what had gotten to him, but he regularly called him up on the house phone, asking if he at least ate a solid breakfast. About several months down the line, with Wyatt calling at particular times in the day, sometimes Brandon would bring his school work down and wait for Wyatt to call while working at it. He looked forward to calls, and soon enough would start to come back to... not his old self, but somebody better. Wyatt still dragged Brandon around on activities that he rather not partake in. It was misadventures like these though that wound Brandon up at a car show with the gang, absolutely fascinated with how vehicles worked and their various forms. Trucks, sports cars, hot rods... Brandon would share Gage's love for sports cars. It was Rhett who pushed Brandon to finally pick up this thing called a "hobby" in his spare time. Always thrilled by gadgets and inventions, Brandon would start tinkering and inventing himself. Days spent with this dysfunctional but somehow functioning quartet of children helped Brandon to slowly untangle himself from depression and even develop personality... at long last...

Sarcasm, cynical side remarks, and even peppy smiles became a common thing from him pretty soon. He was developing a lot more confidence and even overconfidence in his skills and abilities.

And he owed it to three backstreet, rag tag, car loving freaks... Wyatt most of all. It was them who taught him to live. He was not machine programmed for success. Brandon was a human being and even a lovable person. At least that was the way he felt around them, at home things would never lighten up. At this point though, Brandon could live with it. He knew he was more than his family taught him...

* * *

The door to the house opened. It was dark outside, so inside all lights were shut off as well. Brandon let his backpack fall to the floor as he walked through the hall and to the living room. His mom was on her laptop, on the sofa getting late night work submitted.

Even if he was an overall better person than before, a sharper sword, Brandon always was reduced to a whimpering dog around his own mother. He stood there, watching her work for a moment. She knew he was there, but did not acknowledge him. She never did... Brandon turned to go to his room, but he heard her speak first, "Has the capture of the rogue driver been successful yet?"

Brandon halted in his every movement, "He's still out there."

Another moment of silence. Brandon could feel her disapproval from across the room, and oh, how it threatened to crush him. Brandon quickly changed the topic, needing a level headed look at the other major challenge on the table, "Do you know about the phone call? The job?"

"My brother explained everything to me, yes. You need time to think things over."

Brandon slowly turned back to her, eyes plagued with nothing but chaos and confusion, "... Do you think I should take the job?"

Eyes still glued to the screen, Bernadette nodded, "It's an opportunity to move up the ranks as not only a member of the family, but as a scientist as a whole. I say," She finally looked up to Brandon, blue eyes dead serious, "Grasp it."


	11. Chapter XI - A Mangled Blue Jay

**A/N:**

 **Oh cool, not only do we get a chapter featuring a poem or flashback, but we get a chapter featuring _both_** **a poem and a flashback. Two for one!**

 **I think I actually enjoyed writing that cute, little flashback of the team as children more than this massive chapter of angst... and more angst... and don't forget the tears. Wow...**

 **The poem is about Silver and features a bit of his backstory. Not too much is revealed here though ;)**

 **The rest of this fanfiction is basically angst-fest. I've been way too cruel to Brandon in this story... Don't worry though, he'll smile again someday! *Eats ice cream in depression.* You know how hard it is to write him? I tried so hard to keep him in character. I think I succeeded this time though!**

 **Once again, even here I tried to throw in some humor here in there. There's a reference I made to the RWBY Volume III soundtrack with one of Silver's first lines. Let's see how it plays out.**

 **As you can tell by reading this chapter, I like guns.**

 **It took a while to find a good name for this chapter. For a long time it was _A Cowardly Blue Jay_ , but I changed it to _Mangled_ because I thought it fits better.**

 **Enjoy Angst-Fest and it's festivities of feels! :D :P :(**

 **~ Ashla**

* * *

Even against Wyatt's advice, Brandon had to stay up a little that night. Further researching on the company that was possibly his near future, Brandon finally dozed off at twelve...

And yet he woke up early, even before his mother, and high tailed it to the garage. He had more questions racing around his mind more than ever, and his sleep had been plagued with nightmare after nightmare. Brandon had absolutely no intentions on having any run-ins with his mom that morning. So there he was, driving to the base more exhausted and spent than the previous day. With circles visibly under his eyes, he sighed as he pulled in, "Wyatt's going to kill me when he sees how bad I'm doing."

The crimson car also parked in the garage said that Rhett too had come early... wow. Rhett was not a morning person.

Still, Brandon winced upon realizing he was still the last one here, _Gage is always here before anyone else... Not good, Brandon._

Brandon opened the door to the observation room... and noted how Rhett had fallen asleep in one of the chairs all over again. Brandon rolled his eyes and walked over to Wyatt, who was half asleep at the cameras himself, eyes barely staying open.

"Long night?" Brandon asked.

"How does Gage do it?"

Brandon smirked, nudging his shoulder, "Caffeine."

Wyatt rubbed his eyes, "I'll never criticize how many energy drinks he inhales again..."

Brandon glanced at the cameras himself, all was peaceful in Hot Wheels City. The red sunrise was odd though, the morning sky was usually blue.

Brandon was tired enough, his mind escaped to the superstitious thinking that he judged Rhett how many times for, _Is it a bad omen?_

Wyatt, in his adorable sleepiness, finally dozed off where he was. Of course, his head dropped and hit the alarm button. Red light flashing, horn blaring, Wyatt instantly lifted his head again, eyes wide open.

Rhett too woke up, jumping from his chair in alert, "Salmon!"

Brandon reached and pressed the button, turning the alarm off. With all quiet again, Brandon crossed his arms, glaring at the two, "Guys, just a heads up, I'm exhausted, did not sleep well at all last night, and I really don't have a lot of patience today."

Wyatt and Rhett, who were tired as well, exchanged worried faces, then they looked back to Brandon.

Rhett yawned, "Glad to see I'm not the only one..."

Then a smaller and quieter alarm sounded from the observation keys. Brandon and Wyatt scrambled to the controls, looking up at the screen and noticing that familiar, grey car speeding through downtown.

"He just popped up outta nowhere!" Wyatt cried.

Rhett moaned, "I have a bad feeling about this..."

* * *

Engines were raring, rubber felt hardcore friction against the road, emotions were high... team morale was low.

Morale was so low.

Everyone was tired and run out. Even Wyatt, who was always a basket full of sunshine, seemed to be down. Brandon caught it all, and it put even more pressure on his back. Gritting his teeth, he turned to his tablet and checked the radar, "Okay, let's see if we can catch him this time... Fingers crossed..."

Silver's signature signal appeared on the radar, he was only a block away. "Rhett, Silver's at Borderline Road, try to get to the other side to block him. Wyatt, I'd say some air cover would be fine and dandy."

Wyatt responded, "Don't know if the rooftops can support the weight of my truck. You got time to make some calcul-"

"-No time for that! Silver's on the move and we have to trap him."

Rhett scoffed, "Okay, I'm on it..." And he departed from the rest of the group.

Only two left, Brandon narrowed his eyes, tone more threatening, " _Wyatt_..."

"Brandon, I would say it's funny how our roles are reversed for once, but this is dange-"

"-Wyatt!" Brandon shouted.

Wyatt sighed, "If I die, it's your fault." And he jumped away.

Brandon rolled his eyes, "Oh, you'll live..."

With that he hastily turned the car, seeing Silver just at that side. Brandon bit his tongue, eyes shining in determination as he hit the button for his submachine gun. Silver saw and swerved towards the end of the road. True to the plan though, Rhett blocked that side of the road. Brandon activated the aiming mechanism for the gun through his helmet, actually smirking at how well they were doing, "Brandon likie, let's make this quick..."

Before Brandon could aim the gun though, Silver took a surprising move and swerved into the skinny alleyway, Circle Tracker on one set of wheels to fit tight, and zoomed out without much sweat. Having not caught this error in the first place, Brandon growled.

Thankfully, he was not the only "plan builder" on the team. From his side of the street, Rhett pointed to the direction Silver went, speaking into the comn, "I'll circle around to Chef Street, Brandon, take left Wain Street?"

Brandon also opened the comn again, "Yeah, let's do that." He then called Wyatt, "Change of plans, can you follow Silver around until we catch up?" Brandon was already on the move, driving through the shortcut to Wain Street.

Wyatt responded instantly, "Got it!"

On his side of the story, he jumped onto a set of rooftops for a better view. He actually noticed Circle Tracker quite easily and drove on after it, keeping on top for a good vantage point. He was so tired though, even subconsciously, a person who always had low observational capabilities was particularly oblivious to much surroundings... and it would be his literal downfall...

* * *

As for Brandon, he caught up quickly thanks to his booster rockets, turning from Wain Street to Chef Street hastily. Whether it be his exhaustion or some form of miscalculation on his tablet - or both - he failed to figure out how close the silver sports car was to the bend. Of course, gasping loudly and slamming the brakes were what came with seeing the blinding silver sparkle right in front of him. Brandon's helmet even jerked, he came to such a sudden stop. He looked up, he literally had stopped a millionth of an inch from his opponent.

But something else was not right.

Brandon opened his car door. Circle Tracker was in mint condition... but it was that familiar, yellow truck turned on its back that caused an adrenaline rush.

Brandon pretty much screamed, not even going for a medical kit as he burst out racing towards the truck, "Wyatt!"

Only several feet made in progress though, Brandon was quite amusingly tripped by a silver boot, belonging to an anonymous driver, and he landed on his face.

"Surprise!" Silver called in sarcastic happiness, "Welcome to the bloodbath, jump into the tub! We have rubber duckies and-"

Brandon rose to his feet, remembering how this guy had wreaked psychopathic warfare on Wyatt and Gage before, "Enough!"

Silver took one or two casual steps back, tossing a lazy arm towards him, "How demanding. Are all LeBay's like this?"

His helmet not even off to reveal his identity, Brandon was shocked, "Wha- how- how did you-"

Silver scoffed, "I've done my research, and I have informants."

Brandon's eyes narrowed, "I don't know where you're going with this, but-"

"-Don't threaten me, Brandon LeBay," Silver pressed, "Your family has such a controversial history, I wonder why the government isn't hunting you all down."

That side of him that was somehow like his mother broke out, "How dare you insul-"

"-Refusing to follow the code of ethics and hiding it really well, conducting research and analyses that would usually be illegal, basing scientific research facilities in the most ragtag places in the country. Before Hot Wheels City was first transformed by Rev, the research facility run here was put here because this town was so lame, it would never draw attention." Still pointing out every wrong in Brandon's lineage, Silver stepped closer to Brandon, bold and demanding.

"The LeBay's have several European ties ancestrally, but the brilliant scientist who started it all was a twisted, sick scientist in Nazi Germany. He only fled to the U.S. after World War Two ended. Because he did so well at covering his crimes, it was get out of jail free." Silver tilted his head, so close to Brandon that the gadget guy started to back away, "Your own grandfather was capable of receiving a life sentence for a controversial experiment on the emotions of human newborns. Like his father before him, he was incredible at hiding evidence."

Brandon's eyes were wide, not at all denying the dirty secrets of his family, but still stunned on how he could of obtained such crucial and well hidden information.

"I wonder what you're like, Brandon LeBay," Silver continued, "I wonder how good you are at the deception game. Tell you what I can infer, you're so wrapped up in your lies, even your closest friends do not know what your most traumatic life experiences were. You're such a liar, you've been lying to yourself about your future. You could be a success, but you're far from that. You're too weak, too soft."

The words sliced at him like the sharpest knife, knees shaking in panic as Silver so accurately listed off his deepest fears. "You're the opposite of everything you should be, and everything anti-what-you-want-to-be, all at the same time. You're caught in double lives of who you are and who you're expected to be. That other shoe is going to drop, you're going to destroy both sides."

"No..." Brandon whispered, backing against a brick wall at the other side of the road.

Still, Silver marched forward, "You are going to fail your family. You are going to fail your mother."

"No..." Brandon softly repeated.

Silver tossed an arm to Wyatt's car wreck, "You're going to fail your friends."

Brandon's eyes flashed towards the wreckage, "No." His eyes darted back to Silver, "No!"

Brandon was helpless though as Silver walked right up to him, placing a hand on his shoulder, "Everything you've worked so hard for will burn at your own fingertips. Blood will spill, and it will be your fault."

Silver pulled one hand up to his black visor, "And any blood spilled this day is on your hands..." He pulled right up to him. He cupped his other hand, it covering any signs of identity, as he slightly lifted his visor as to whisper more words into Brandon's ear. His breath was like a cloud burst of warm air against Brandon's ear, despite his helmet still being on. He somehow felt it. And the words, oh those words... they were enough to crush him weak as a sheet of thin paper.

For several long moments, the onslaught of venomous whispers continued. Then, out of the blue (or red) a familiar hot rod roared down from Wyatt's side of the street. Silver heard it and pulled his visor fully down again and ran towards his own car. While Wyatt's truck wreckage blocked Rhett from pursuing him, there were always plan B's with this unpredictable kid. Rhett jumped from his vehicle with a classic hunting rifle, face hardened with determination as he shouted, "Stand down!"

Silver still was outside his car, so he took his sweet time to shake his head, "How about... no."

And he stepped into the car, slamming the door.

Rhett growled, just as frustrated as the rest of the club, and instantly opened fire. Several harmless bullets were fired as Circle Tracker backed up. Silver obviously was not giving a care and rammed into Brandon's own vehicle to get out of the way. With the entire front of Brandon's baby ruined, Circle Tracker swiftly drove away.

Well... that went well.

Brandon was still even processing what on earth just happened as Rhett dropped his rifle, running towards the wreckage of Wyatt's truck and bent down to the broken glass. Rhett was relieved to see Wyatt was conscious and banging on the trapped door to get out.

Over at Brandon's end, he undid his secure helmet slowly before yanking it off his head. With fury and pure rage behind his every move, he threw his helmet against the asphalt road in defeat.

Back at the now mellow (and broken) truck, Rhett pulled off his helmet, "Got you, buddy!" And he broke the glass with the round, red helmet. Rhett helped to pull the second youngest out, Wyatt coughing as he instantly stood up.

"You okay?" Rhett asked, placing his hands on his shoulders.

After taking a moment to calm down, Wyatt looked at something behind them, "I'm fine, but... It's Brandon I'm worried about."

Rhett turned around to see Brandon on his knees, staring at the tossed helmet several paces in front of him. As the wind softly blew, rustling his blond hair, Brandon's burning eyes, all full of self loathing and hidden insecurity, stared upon his azure helmet. His right eye shed only a single tear for a million deep regrets.

* * *

I ate the dust, in the rich I lust  
All rights I was denied, but I...  
I'm a human, an interesting human  
But still the same as you

In a system where they knew  
Of my powers as I grew  
I was broken and abused  
And now it's my turn to give some to you

Challenge the best, come down like the rest  
I'm at the top, don't try to be what you're not  
I lurk in the shadows, I'll make your heart hallow  
Broken like me, forsaken like me

I grow in my strength as you are drained  
All childish innocence is vain as I take it away  
You still think you got this? Well, this is a war  
And you shall be crushed like never before

More insecurities due, my eyes see right through  
All vulnerability exposed, I see the bare truth  
Your science has ruined me, love has forgotten me  
But these nocturnal eyes they see what you need  
You need to be beat

Look over your shoulder, I dare, I'm right there  
With glowing eyes I wait to strike  
The whispers I feed you, put into the trap to  
Destroy you, and I hope I've made your life...

... so, so lonely and miserable

I finally burst out of the brush, feel the adrenaline rush  
I sink my teeth in, feed on your weakness  
I tackle you down, no mercy allowed  
I'm the predator, I'm the champ, I've won  
You have been beaten, the battle is done

* * *

Brandon pretty much kept the mini-hydrator ray in his car at all times. It was simple to hydrate both Brandon and Wyatt's vehicles and head right back to the base - as Brandon's tablet had been severely damaged by the crash and tracking Silver again was currently unattainable. Even during the procedure, and driving back to the garage, Wyatt and Rhett easily realized Brandon needed his space and gave it to him. Wyatt had never once in his life seen Brandon this... infuriated. It actually scared even the stunt man enough not to even approach him. Even so, he and Rhett both could see something behind the rage - it was directed more at himself than anything else. Wyatt and Rhett had silently agreed to give him the drive back to the garage to cool off.

The entire ride back was occupied by complete silence.

When they got back to the base, they all entered through the garage. Wyatt attempted to approach Brandon, who threw his helmet angrily onto the sofa and instantly was stalking towards the elevator. Rhett watched with worry from the sidelines as Wyatt walked after him, "Brandon, buddy, listen-"

Brandon turned to him, lashing his arm as he shouted, "-Shut up, Wyatt!"

Wyatt stopped dead silent, eyes wide in shock at Brandon's attack. Brandon immediately saw just where he went wrong though, and dropped his head in a sigh.

"Sorry, Wyatt," he lifted his head, eyes visibly misty as he spoke from a place of defeat, "But I need to be alone right now."

With that being said, Brandon walked up to the elevator and pushed the button down. As the elevator fell, Wyatt steadily took several steps back and fell onto the couch, looking equally defeated. Rhett walked up to him, placing his hand on the couch arm as he watched Wyatt just stare at the empty elevator shaft. After several moments, Wyatt looked at Rhett.

"I know Brandon," Wyatt said, "I know him. He's upset about somethin', and it's not related to Silver. I don't know though, h-he never talks about his personal life 'ta anybody. How can..."

Rhett's face hardened as Wyatt lowered his head again. A fresh wave of determination overtaking, "I could talk to him."

Wyatt's head snapped back to Rhett, a small smile spreading across his face, "You think you can?"

Rhett stood a little straighter, "I've always had ways of getting to him, one way or the other."

Wyatt's eyes shone with melancholy amusement, his smile growing warmer, "'Ya sure do, cowboy..."

A small wave of confidence crossed Wyatt's face as he reached and nudged Rhett's arm, "Go git' 'em."

Rhett smiled back at him, nodding curtly, "I won't let you guys down."

Wyatt nodded back, "I know. Out of the four of us, you're the one who's most trustworthy."

Rhett blushed only a little at the rare privilege of receiving a compliment from Wyatt and walked over to the elevator door that only just came up. Once at the door, he gave Wyatt one last determined look. Wyatt nodded back as the door closed.

With the door closed, Wyatt's smile faded. His eyes shone in worry. "I trust you, Rhett, it's Brandon I'm worried about..."

* * *

"Guys, we've known each other our whole lives. Cars always brought us together."

R _ed hair bobbing as he ran down the sidewalk, Rhett waved the poster in his hand as he approached the group, "Guys, look, a car show!"_

 _Three people instantly snapped their attention to him. Rhett skidded to a halt, catching his breath as he handed the poster to Gage, "Look!"_

 _Excitement shining in his oak colored eyes, Gage took the poster and looked at it, "Oh, cool! This town finally has something exciting going on! And it's_ cars _!"_

 _Another hand reached and grabbed the poster straight from Gage's hand._

 _"Hey!" Gage shouted as Wyatt scanned it over._

 _Wyatt was just as excited as the other two, "You think there's trucks there?"_

 _Gage chuckled, "Nah, Wyatt, it's a car show. Not a monster truck rally."_

 _As Gage yanked the poster back, Wyatt crossed his arms, "Well, there should be trucks!"_

 _"What's so exciting about a bunch of automobiles anyways?"_

 _All people stopped what they were doing and turned to the fourth member of the group. Brandon was, as usual, wearing heavy clothes that only barely hid how scrawny he was. He looked at him with an inquisitive eyebrow raised._

 _Immediately, Wyatt responded, "It's cars, that's why it's so awesome!" He ran up to Brandon, wrapping his arm around him as he slowly spanned his hand out like he was showing him the world, "Cars and trucks and buses are what 'git us around, transport goods..."_

 _"Personal space, Wyatt..." Brandon winced._

 _Wyatt took no notice though as he continued, "They basically run the world! Like horses ran the great, wild west, baby! Cars are almost as awesome as me!"_

 _"Remember my bubble, Wyatt?" Brandon tried to get away from his sturdy arm, "Remember my line? Cross my personal space line and you die?"_

 _Wyatt finally let go of him, taking several paces back, "Sorry..."_

 _Gage continued where Wyatt left off, "Oh my gosh, Brandon, cars are the best! Not to mention the cars from, like, the 'glory days,' and the sick paint jobs and wicked, cool hood ornaments."_

 _Rhett hyperactively jumped up and down, "Oh, Brandon, you have to come to the car show with us!"_

 _Brandon took a moment to just stair at the three before sighing, shoving his hands into his pockets, "Fine..."_

 _"Yaayyyyyy!" Rhett spun in a circle once before turning to Gage, "Game plan, Gage?"_

 _Gage did what he did best (not trolling Wyatt, the other thing,) "Okay, since we're in this together we all should put some effort into the plans. I'll take care of paying to get in. Rhett, how much change you got?"_

 _Rhett dug back into his memory banks, "Um... ..."_

 _"Ask your mom if you can bring money for fair food. Hey, Brandon!"_

 _"Huh?" Brandon snapped out of staring off into space._

 _"You think you can bring a picnic blanket?"_

 _Brandon shrugged, "Sure."_

 _Gage turned to Wyatt, who was flexing his newly developing muscles, "Wyatt!"_

 _Wyatt stared at him._

 _Gage responded, "You bring - uh..."_

 _"Awesomeness." Wyatt returned to his self indulgence._

 _"Yeah," Gage rolled his eyes, "You bring that."_

 _Rhett slightly jumped in place, "Oh boy, this is going to be the event of the summer!"_

 _Gage smirked and took a last look at the poster, "We all meet up at the park, next to the twin cherry trees at five tomorrow evening."_

 _He handed the poster back to Rhett as he walked off. Wyatt noticed him leaving and raced after him, "Hey, we're not done yet, **Gage**!"_

 _Rhett rolled his eyes as he watched the arch rivals walk off arguing, then smiled as he addressed the other person in the group, "You're going to love it, Brandon, you-"_

 _Rhett turned around just to see that Brandon already had been walking away, keeping to his inverted self. Rhett's smile slowly dropped, he realized he was alone again._

 _Watching Brandon walk off, he could only sigh as he thought to himself,_ Someday...


	12. Chapter XII - Brothers

**A/N:**

 **This was pretty much the hardest scene to write in this entire fanfiction! And it's so _long_! Easily my longest chapter yet. Really don't know what to put in this author's note... except that this was one of my most highly anticipated chapters? I couldn't wait to get to this one since chapter one, and I spent a lot of time trying to get the dialogue and action and stuff just right. **

**I always looked at Brandon and Rhett as older/ younger siblings. Brandon as the oldest and Rhett as the youngest. So many of their interactions in the movies point to them having a brotherly relationship. Brandon is the responsible oldest who's constantly annoyed by the crazy youngest. It's perfect!**

 **So yeah.**

 **Hope you guys like this chapter... whoever's reading it...**

 **~ Ashla.**

* * *

The automatic, glass door to the underground lab in the facility opened, Rhett walked in. It was Brandon's favorite place in the underground facility, and the place he went to cool off - usually by mixing up nuclear power drinks and making them explode. It was weird, they all had so quickly found their own favorite places in the facility. Wyatt could easily be found in the gym, his easily aggravated nerves soothed only to punching a heavy bag to heavy metal music. Gage often times could be seen in the observatory when Larry was not there himself. Especially when feeling in those rare quiet days and down times, Gage often times helped Larry with watching the cameras. Rhett himself enjoyed the main area, tuning up and tinkering with cars. Rhett also enjoyed the library, stocking up on wacky science fiction books.

Taking such an interest in the laboratory, Brandon had psyched Larry's interest, and he let the child help him in his experiments from time to time. While his top technology and scientific wonders, such as the nature of liquid imagination were kept from the young LeBay, Brandon often times seemed the most, crazy as it sounds, _extroverted_ when blurting a bunch of hyper, scientific nonsense to the others about how incredible some type of invention or chemical compound was. Even Wyatt could not understand the language of scientific vocabulary well, despite being his closest friend.

As of today though, Brandon was not playing around with the chemistry kit. In fact, he was huddled on the car seat of a torn apart car, tearing apart and fixing... was that Wyatt's alarm clock? He must of smashed it when waking up again. Amused, Rhett rolled his eyes fondly before taking another look at Brandon. Brandon was changed into his casual clothes again, apparently Rhett had not been the only one wanting to change out of uniform. Of course, Rhett had taken his time changing to give Brandon more time before he tried something, anything, to get him to open up. While Rhett was usually cheery as could be, this time he was surprisingly solemn. Rhett said nothing as he crossed the lab floor, passing the animal DNA collection, and sitting on another dismembered car seat close to Brandon.

Brandon was pulling nuts and bolts from a alarm clock with a screw, not paying any notice to Rhett. They both knew Brandon was hardly oblivious, and maybe even hoping he would go away. Rhett, however, would not walk away from this one. After several moments of sober silence, Brandon sighed (while still not turning to Rhett,) "I said I need to be alone."

Rhett's hands were in his lap, he was squeezing them with steady nervousness. Still serious and unusually down though, Rhett's answer was soft and true to the point, "You know what I want."

Brandon yanked a screw out of the alarm system. He plucked the screw off the screw driver and put it in the pile of parts next to him. Still focused on his work, Brandon responded firmly, "Yeah, and I'm not giving it to you."

No words were spoken since.

The only sound in the room was of Brandon tinkering with the alarm clock. Many moments of silence between the boys passed, not a single whisper to be heard. Silence could be considered a good thing, but it was steadily gritting at Brandon. Rhett knew it, he knew what he was doing, and how waited patiently. He waited for Brandon to crack under the pressure him simply being there.

Several more moments of this, and Brandon finally reached the point that he couldn't stand anymore. He put the broken alarm system aside and stood up, hugging himself, as he took several steps away. Now closer to the center of the room, back turned on Rhett, he sighed, "You win."

Rhett smirked at his victory, "I knew I could." His smile faded though as he asked, "Brandon, what's wrong? Are you okay?"

Brandon shook his head, "Are any of us okay? As far as I can tell, everything is wrong! Silver, Gage's injury, Larry being gone! We haven't heard from him since he left, it's like he disappeared off the map. And Silver... Quoting Wyatt here, that guy's a psychopathic jerk."

Rhett nodded, listening with full attention as Brandon started pacing, "That driver, he- th-there's more to him that meets the eye. I honestly can't see me winning against him. He did it to Wyatt, now he did it to me... I can't stop thinking."

More silence fell across them. Rhett was confused a little, but still got a majority of the picture, "Whatever he said, don't let it get to you. It's not like he's some ambush predator, he doesn't even know any of us. What can he-"

Brandon turned over to Rhett, throwing his arms, "-It feels like he does know us! Somehow, everything he said was so accurate."

"Well, what did he say?" Rhett inquired.

Brandon hugged himself again as words raced around his mind like a round race track, " _How demanding. Are all LeBay's like this? I wonder what you're like, Brandon LeBay, I wonder how good you are at the deception game. Tell you what I can infer, you're so wrapped up in your lies, even your closest friends do not know what your most traumatic life experiences were. You're such a liar, you've been lying to yourself about your future. You could be a success, but you're far from that. You're too weak, too soft_."

"He said..."

" _You are going to fail your family. You are going to fail your mother. You are going to fail your friends. Everything you've worked so hard for will burn at your own fingertips. Blood will spill, and it will be your fault. And any blood spilled this day is on your hands_..."

"He... Somehow knows..." Brandon closed his eyes. A fresh dose of shy shame coming up as he finally admitted at least part of it, "I've always had this type of fear in me. An irrational fear? Maybe, but it's been there since I was five. I'm a member of one of the most successful families in science. I've always had this expectation to be like them, be a legacy like them. The first time I really felt it was when I was five, I overheard a conversation between her and my old professor.

 _"Bernadette, your son is showing signs of brilliance. I feel quite sure that I can push him ahead of his ranks. Fly through kindergarten and pre-school, I can get him to first grade by Spring."_

 _A small, blond boy was behind the stairs, listening to them speaking in the living room. Quiet as a mouse, he kept out of sight as he mom spoke to his new professor._

 _"You can try, professor," she responded, "But I don't think he can."_

 _A pause spread across the child's mind, he previous smile fading as she spoke._

 _"That boy is soft. Too soft, he doesn't have the guts for this. A LeBay is to refuse the heart and think logically and scientifically. Does he do that? No."_

 _"He's five," the professor responded, "Of course he's led by emotion. But still, ma'am, he's easily beyond the gifted scale. Allow me to teach him for one year, one year is all, and let's see how far he goes. If I get him to first grade by March first, then will you see?"_

 _A moment of silence came across them. Hidden in the boxes below the staircase, Brandon curled up. His mother never seemed to love, but... she didn't believe in him? His own mother did not believe in him? Still quiet though, his presence in his hiding spot was not detected as his mom finally responded._

 _"You can try," she said, "But he will never amount to anything."_

Even if it had happened when he was basically still a toddler, it still hurt today, because her view on him never changed. Yes, Brandon made it to first grade by October, but it was mostly fueled by a long lost dream... gaining her love and affection.

"I worked at my schoolwork like you wouldn't believe. I was smart, I quickly got it and flew through it. I was a grade ahead when I was six, but for some reason it wasn't good enough for her. I'm perfectionist and very bent on following rules, you know that, and it's because of her. I've always been scared of her."

"You can try," Rhett quietly quoted the words, "But he won't amount to anything."

Brandon turned and watched his younger teammate. He was looking to the ground, eyes burning with a type of pain. Rhett looked up to him, carrying a sad smile crossed with amusement. "Funny, my dad said the exact same thing about me once..."

Brandon's eyes widened a bit. Well, this was the first time in, wow, years he had heard a whisper about Rhett's father. Rhett absolutely loved his mother, and was still a bit of a mommy child, but he felt the complete opposite for his father. Everybody knew since they first got to know him that bringing up Rhett's daddy was a huge no-no, one of the few things that got a usually happy go lucky kid in a foul mood. Rhett had become unusually quiet when he was nine over his his father dying off alcohol, and Brandon and Wyatt had not seen much of him since he stayed in the house and refused visitors - except Gage. It took a month or so of waiting, but Rhett finally rejoined the gang under Gage's pleading. While the awkward, silent side of him was ever so present, Rhett quickly broke out of his shell and was his normal, hyperactive self.

During that time though, despite being told by Gage that he was okay, the other two had been a bit worried then over the youngest. At the time, Brandon had still been battling his depression and knew what it was like. For the first time ever, he had been genuinely concerned for him, even if he never pursued him thanks the habits pushed by his kin. Still though, Brandon had noticed something else during the several weeks Rhett had been awol...

He had been missing his cheerfulness and energy.

Brandon had never liked him, especially then, so why did he miss him when he was gone? Brandon had shrugged it off, but took inner comfort knowing that he wasn't the only one with issues back then. Since then, nobody ever spoke about Rhett's father, and he was obviously trying to bury him. Now, here Rhett finally uttered something about his lost parent... something dark...

Brandon was visibly confused at Rhett's statement, and why he suddenly was mentioning something he hated even thinking about. Quite obviously Rhett always had poor relations to him, and what he had said confirmed it. Rhett's smile of irony faded, replaced by a small frown, "And yeah, I'm not much, but I turned out better than he thought." He smiled at Brandon again, "If it's something your mom said or did, don't mind it. I'm pretty sure not even we know how capable we are."

Brandon smiled fondly at Rhett's words of wisdom. What he lacked in brains he made up for in heart, always did. Brandon shook his head though, sadly sighing, "I try my hardest, believe me, but..." Brandon's gaze drifted away, off into space, as he carefully chose his wording, "... I have the perfect opportunity right now to prove her wrong, benefit my bloodline, but it would be coming at a large cost. I quite frankly don't know whether or not to take it, because if I chose them, I'm positive I-..." He sighed again, starting to pace again, "I'd lose everything that makes me me."

Rhett's eyes dimmed, realizing that sacrifice was at Brandon's hands. Rhett shook his head, hands squeezing his knees, "If it means giving yourself up, don't do it."

Brandon stopped, turning rather harshly to him, "But I feel like I have to! Everything here is so confusing these days, and a lot of the confusion was my fault."

Rhett raised an eyebrow, completely lost, "Wu...?"

Brandon winced, clenching his fists, "Every time I go by what I want it's a disaster. It was a disaster on March... Twenty eighth..."

"... What happened?" Rhett's innocent voice pulled Brandon out of a moment in the clouds.

Brandon shook his head firmly, trying to figure out how to put it. He turned back to Rhett, choosing his words carefully, "There was an invention my mother made then. It was dangerous, and against all advice I wanted to see how it worked." Brandon winced, drawing out the painful part of it, "It cost the life of Professor Broderick. I pushed a button, he pulled me out of danger, and..." Nausea once again spread across Brandon's stomach as he choked, "... Let's just say it's the reason I'm giddy around blood."

Rhett certainly got the picture, that horror in his hazel eyes said it all. Brandon's gaze fell to the skull on Rhett's shirt, "You never said anything about your dad's passing, what it was like."

Rhett knowingly put a hand on the picture on his shirt, "Yeah, _momento mori_ , it started with my dad..."

Rhett's almost gothic dressing style was, at the least, odd considering his bright nature. It had not escaped Brandon's suspicions back when it started, only a month or so after the death of his father.

Rhett gritted his teeth, "There are things he said, stuff he did, that..." Rhett took a moment to think up a suitable word, "... did not leave a good taste in my mouth. Close to the end I hated him, so why do I miss him?"

So unusual that it defied the laws of nature to Brandon, negative energy seemed to radiate from Rhett, who looked away, "I still hear him in my dreams..."

Brandon gulped and walked up to Rhett, putting a hand on his shoulder. Rhett's eyes seemed to carry a shift in them, his head snapped up and looked at him. After a moment, Rhett looked away again, "Considering you liked that Broderick guy, it must of been worse."

Brandon took his hand off Rhett's shoulder, that simple action alone having invaded his own personal space, "I don't know if you'd consider him a father figure, my dad died before I was born. Broderick was a mentor though, one of the few adults who knew what respect meant to me. And when your one living parent doesn't give you time to be human and grieve a loss like that... I had it different than you, but who's to say who had what worse?"

Rhett sadly smiled, "True."

Brandon sat down in his car seat again, this time ignoring the project he had been working on. Once again, Rhett watched him like Rolley watched the door after Larry left for anything. Brandon noticed all the concern, all the confusion. Rhett was at the edge of his seat, grabbing the end of the cushion firmly. The redhead dared to ask, "What sacrifice are we talking about, exactly?"

Brandon scoffed in amusement, Rhett just cut straight to the chase. Of course, Brandon's thought was instant. _You_. LeBay had to be extremely careful though - not just because he preferred this all being vague, but because his mother would not appreciate anyone being let in on their glorious family.

Brandon looked away, eyes still shining in light hearted humor, "I'm not so sure I'm allowed to say, family business."

A simple 'oh' was Rhett's reply before more silence fell. This time, it seemed to last much longer. Brandon continued to fix Wyatt's alarm clock. While Brandon was hoping Rhett would go away, Rhett was sorting through the information, hints, and his own thoughts. As the clock ticked, neither uttered a word or even looked at each other. As an introvert in both interactions and nature, it was continually pushing Brandon closer to the edge. While set alone silence was golden to him, silence _with people_ was a different story. Still, he did not ask Rhett to leave, because it felt wrong. Truth was, Brandon needed that outside, third person perspective, and as Rhett was completely opposite of him he was perfect. Still, there was that instinctive part of him that was more wary than ever, for him. For the youngest person on the team. While Rhett was on the verge of turning fourteen soon enough, a year older, he seemed so much younger to him still. So innocent and vulnerable. Could Rhett take it? The questions kept pacing around his mind more and more, until...

"I always looked up to you, you know."

Surprise visibly crossed Brandon's face, he stopped working on the alarm.

Another, shorter, moment of silence passed. Rhett bit his lip, still gripping the seat edges, "Before we ever even spoke to each other, when I first saw you, something just..."

Rhett was not given enough time search for the proper words. Brandon let out a shocked scoff, raising a puzzled eyebrow as he finally looked at Rhett, "Why?"

Red nervously watched blue through the corner of his eyes, "I don't know? Just always have. You're really cool..."

With the shy smile Rhett gave him, Brandon actually returned it with a small smile of his own, "Really?"

Rhett seemed to slip back into his usual extroversion, nodding, "Yup."

Brandon sadly looked away, ocean eyes filled with fresh sorrow. He put the alarm clock aside again. Rhett looked at him with confusion. A small bit of panic burst across Rhett's eyes as Brandon got up, taking several steps away from him. "Brandon?"

Brandon smiled with a sad fondess as he turned to face Rhett again, "Off and on my mom considered ever getting remarried and having another kid, 'cause I apparently sucked so much. Still though, it made me think. What was it like to have a younger sibling." A light chuckle escaped him, he shook his head slowly, "You answered that for me, no second guesses."

Rhett's childishness nature was ever present, his entire being filled with excitement as he nervously asked, "Oh?"

"Yeah," Brandon smile faded, he turned away as he made a confession, "And I was a snob in return."

Suddenly, the otherwise warm feel of the room vanished like candlelight being swiftly extinguished. Rhett stood up, walking in front of Brandon again. The boy attempted to smile, as if he had just heard a joke, "What?"

Brandon was obviously not joking, "Sure, there were one or two times you got on my nerves, but I never should of reacted the ways I did."

 _"Hey, what's he doing?"_

 _The four boys looked up to see the ominous, mysterious Rev doing something in the sky, orange loops of glorious track imaginating into existence._

 _"Maybe he's proposing to Misses Rev?" Wyatt threw a theory into the wind._

 _"Guys," Rhett called through the comn channel, "Maybe he_ is _Misses Rev!"_

 _That familiar annoyance came up in Brandon's mind again. Unafraid to speak his thoughts, Brandon responded, "That's ridiculous, Rhett."_

Brandon's throat grew tight as Rhett's fake smile dropped, his eyes fading into seriousness.

 _"Why are the dorcs chasing us?" Gage cried._

 _As the quartet was chased by a mob of Gary's cars, Rhett threw in his answer, "Because we destroyed the mayor's tulip garden."_

 _Brandon rolled his eyes, "That wasn't us, Rhett."_

 _"Well, it could of been us!" Rhett retorted._

 _Brandon's voice was stern in stress, "No, it-"_

 _Before the fight could escalate, Wyatt intervened, "Who cares?!"_

Brandon spoke again, "I hurt you."

 _"I need an hour to make the cheetah fuel," Brandon explained the situation to Gage and Wyatt, who despite their rivalry were both intrigued with Brandon's plan to capture Rev._

 _"With Rhett's help," Brandon smiled, "Maybe even less."_

 _As if on queue, Rhett got his face trapped in the automatic sliding door behind them._

 _Brandon rolled his eyes, "Then again, maybe even more..."_

Tears began to flood Brandon's eyes, a phenomenon rare as rain falling up. Against what he understood from the start, he never even tried to improve, "I _damaged_ you. Never once did I consider your feelings."

 _Underground, within the sewers, they were cornered by... rats ...and looking pretty bad._

 _"We're trapped!" Gage cried, their cars against the wall._

 _As usual, Rhett chose the worst time to crack a joke, "Like rats?"_

 _That was_ it _! Annoyance bleed through Brandon's voice as he revolted with the others, outright saying it, "I never liked you..."_

Salty tears began to slide down Brandon's eyes, Rhett too was developing tears, but was steadfast in denial. "Damage is a strong word..."

Vision blurred, Brandon ranted on. "Out of anyone, I was the one who knew what you were going through when a loved one died, I never approached you." Brandon clenched his fists, "I bullied you..."

 _"What are you doing?" Brandon cried, "He'll short circuit!"_

 _Rhett turned from the now soaked robot to Brandon with anger in his eyes. The sound of Gage and Wyatt fighting in the background was barely noted as Brandon's azure eyes pierced into Rhett's hazel. At this point, he was so done with him. So freaking done. How_ dare _this clueless punk give him attitude when it was all_ his _fault?_

 _"Oh, are you afraid he'll malfunction and spill water on you too?"_

 _If only looking at someone alone could kill somebody. Brandon currently felt like destroying this clumsy, stupid brat._

 _"Welcome to every day of my life!" Rhett shouted, waving his hands._

Do you think I care, you little, dumb nuisance? _Brandon's thoughts were like toxic poison, and he acted on them. Saying nothing, he took a bucket of numbingly cold water and, in his exhaustion and rage, dumped it on Rhett._

In reality, Brandon had been the brat.

Now, here they stood. Brandon knew it all along, but now the stings and pangs of regret were so real. Now he cared, and looking back his actions were devastating. Standing several paces from each other, they were at the hardcore truth of what they were. While Rhett tried his hardest to pull together, Brandon was actually losing it. It was always Rhett who pushed him to his edge, and here he'd done it again. Boy, was it misery. Sweet, sweet misery.

Rhett attempted to make it stop, he reached for his shoulder, "Bran-"

"-No!" Brandon swat his arm away, earning a shocked sob from the car guru. Brandon's tears pilled up even more, completely blurring his vision. He saw red. Monstrous red. The monster he was.

"Don't tell me I'm wrong," Brandon's sore throat was so tight, it took effort to speak, "'Cause I did. We both know I did. Don't deny it." He raised his finger, shaking it in self loathing, "Don't you dare deny it!"

Another sob escaped Rhett, who only took half a step back, "M-maybe... you..." Rhett gulped, attempting to collect himself as he finally told the truth, "Yes, it's true."

The confirmation cut like a serrated knife.

Tears started streaming down Brandon's face, off his jaw. That was it. A fear was true, a nightmare was real. He had failed the one he viewed as a younger brother. It caused him to shake, almost fall to his knees.

Yet, in the staggering pain, new resolve was found. While Brandon's head was lowered, he clenched his bony fists, "I know what I have to do."

It was a tone even he himself did not like, but this was it. With the defeats already accounted here done for, Brandon knew where he was going to go. He knew what his decision was. Even if it was going to take everything inside him, staying here would only make things worse. At this point, years behind the abuse, there was no recovering.

All Brandon could do was...

"I'm sorry." Brandon whispered, "I'm so sorry. I failed you. If I'm the oldest, then it's my responsibility to take care of you. I failed. I love you, but I failed you."

Brandon closed his eyes, "I'm not making that mistake again."

From the silence (Brandon and Rhett's tears hitting the floor aside) he could tell the redhead was listening.

"I have the perfect opportunity right now," Brandon gulped, understanding the risk of being direct, but willing to finally go there, "My uncle provided me a job in New York. It'll fix everything."

Rhett's eyes widened in shock, "New York? That's millions of miles-"

"-Not mill-" Brandon growled at his own instinctive responses to Rhett's scientific incorrectness. Just like Wyatt said, who cared! That would be the last time.

"You've been chasing me for too long," Brandon's heart broke more with each of his own words, "I'm not worth it, I'm so not worth it. Out of anybody out there, you're chasing _me_ , and even you don't know why. It will benefit both of us, you the most, if you gave up on a long lost dream."

Silent crying was exploding through Rhett. Unable to tarry any longer, Brandon had to get out of here. "If I'm the oldest, then it's my responsibility to take care of you... Even if it means pushing you away."

Brandon was unable to control the sob that overtook his body. Every fiber in his being despising it, heart telling him no, Brandon was choosing to go. "I'm sorry."

That was that. Brandon turned his back on his friend, his teammate, his brother for the final time. Another sob escaped the usually cold and collected child as he walked towards the door. As the sliding glass parted ways for the blue driver, Rhett finally responded.

"That's okay," his voice was shaky and mangled, "At least I know you care, and that means so much to me."

As Rhett gritted his teeth, holding himself together in ragtag pieces, Brandon left the room. Brandon left Team Hot Wheels. Brandon left Rhett.

Rhett fell to his knees, a loud wail sounding across the room. His hands slapping the concrete floor, Rhett closed his eyes, crying loudly as he emptied all emotion and agony.

And he kept on crying. He would keep on crying until he was too weak to shed tears anymore.

* * *

Air conditioning causing his long hair to fly, Wyatt recollected himself in the silence of the garage. The door to his yellow truck open, Wyatt had changed into his usual grey shirt and jeans. His prized, yellow cap was on the passenger seat. Unusual behavior for a thrill seeker, but Wyatt actually needed the solitude. Still waiting on any of his teammates, he had been far too tempted to take a look at the small photo from a life before his. Holding the picture in his hand, he was curled up on his seat. Chin on his knees, he was so lost in thought. He didn't even hear the door swing open and the open crying... until he realized the door swung open and the open crying.

Green eyes suddenly wide, the fourteen year old looked up to see Brandon getting into his car. Wyatt was unable to see his face, but he did not need that to know something was terribly wrong.

"Brand-Oh?" Wyatt called.

No reply, the car just started.

As the car sped out of the garage, Wyatt watched. Slowly pulling himself into a more alert sitting position, Wyatt looked down on the picture one more time.

An easily attached, emotional person, his deepest fears emerged as he put the picture in his pocket. He was not willing to ever so slightly risk the chance of what happened with _her_ a second time. "Not again..."

He slammed the door, yanking only his helmet on before pulling the gear and driving out after him, "Not again!"


	13. Chapter XIII - No Silver Lining

"Ow!"

Gage winced as she wrapped the wound. His mother only held him firmer, but she gave Gage a sympathetic smile, "Stay still, dear."

A hiss escaped him as Gwen finished up, "There." She cut the remaining wrap off and smiled at her son, "Freshly cleaned, new bandages..."

"... No more dried blood smell." Mr. Green joked from across the living room.

Gwen threw one of the couch pillows at him, laughing despite all attempts not to, "Oh stop!"

Gage's dad did not seem fazed from the pillow at all, from his throne which was the recliner he smirked, "I get that they're called throw pillows, dear, but that's not the type of throw the title means."

Gage could not help but snicker.

Gwen smirked as she packed her medical kit, "Now what? I should take a chill pillow?"

"Okay," Gage sighed, "That was trying too hard."

Gwen stood up from her knelt position on the floor. She lightly swatted his arm, "Just put your shirt on."

Gage reached beside him and pulled an orange t-shirt, mostly plain aside the darker shaded tornado on it, over him. He carefully avoided snagging his bandages. Green left his father to his reading and walked after his mother, to the kitchen. In the kitchen, she was putting the first aid kit in the closet.

Gwen turned to see Gage hanging around the entryway and smiled, "It's been nice seeing you around the house more, even if you spent the first half of the day sleeping."

Gage scoffed in amusement, leaning against the wall as he crossed his arms, "I kinda needed it."

Gwen leaned against the kitchen counter, "You really have exhausted yourself this week, dear. Kid, you're going to kill yourself at this rate."

Gage leaned his head against the wall, "All I wanted to do was catch Silver. We've tried engaging him as a team, in separate groups... driving him into corners and trying to make him run out of fuel... Nothing."

Gwen sadly watched him, "Maybe you're trying too hard? You know about looking too much for something that has really been in front of your face the whole time, don't you?"

Gage let himself slide to the floor, trying not to jostle the wound at his side, "He has to have a weakness, but where?"

Gwen pushed herself off the counter, walking across the room and sitting next to her child on the kitchen floor, "I know I sound like a hypocrite saying this, but slow down. Take time to just not rush around, making decisions on the whim. Try stepping back, looking at the situation, and observing the world around you. I've done it too many times, I've watched you do it too, but all our rushing and haste will only wind us up frazzled, stressed, and confused."

"Yeah," Gage, who's hand and pressed against his forehead, said, "This goes for you too."

Gwen chuckled, "Just take time, take the time you have home now, to reflect. What did you see in him? How does he fight? Has he poorly reacted to certain maneuvers your team pulled? By the time you're back in action, use reflections to plan ahead for him."

Gage watched her with a smile, already thinking through the last two weeks with clouded eyes.

Gwen was about to speak more, but -

\- *Ding ding ding ding! **RIIII-IIII-IINNNNNGG!** Ding ding ding ding! **RIIII-IIII-IINNNNNGG!** *

Gage was so surprised to remember his phone was in his jean pocket, he jumped. After that moment of shock, he pulled his phone out and lazily checked the caller. It was Rhett.

Gage looked upon the contact with a tired expression for a moment, then answered, putting it on voice mail.

The simple sound of unfilled, static background air was enough to chill him and his mother. The silence carried on for several more seconds, and Gwen gave Gage a confused expression. Another couple moments of wondering if anyone was even there passed before the faint sound of a shaky breath in the background was heard. From there, the voice that most certainly belonged to Rhett - but did not sound like him - came through. His usual demeanor was excited and cheerful, where was the innocence and liveliness?

"Gage?" his dead sounding voice almost monotoned.

Worry instantly swelled up inside Gage's heart. What on earth was happening? His reaction was a successfully calm tone, but his oak eyes showed signs of panic, "Rhett, where are you?"

Another moment or so of background fuzz, then Rhett responded, "Garage."

Gage obviously was not enjoying his tone of voice, he gripped his phone tighter as he asked in a more stern voice, "Are you okay?"

Rhett's voice came out feeling just as lost, but it carried more emotion to it. It was like that awkward, grey mix of sorrow and anger that had no notable difference. "Just... get... over here."

Gage looked to his mother, eyes full of chaos. She herself was staring at the phone in concern. This was the first time she had ever heard Rhett like this, and he and Gage were running around together since they were toddlers. Her gaze met Gage's, she noticed just what his expression was begging. He really did want to go over there. He wanted to be there for his best friend. Gwen leaned closer to him, "Ask where the others are?" She whispered.

Gage followed her advice, "Where's the others? Wyatt?"

"Upstairs." Rhett responded just as bland as the voice activation boxes on phone.

Taking note that Rhett was in the facility, Gage continued, "And Brandon?"

...

The call was completely hung up.

"Okay!" Gage shouted, now starting to panic, "That's it!"

Gwen placed a sturdy hand on his shoulder, "I'll let you go over there, but don't get into any cat fights, and I mean it."

Gage gave her thankful smile and bolted off the floor, grabbing his favorite jacket from the coat rack.

* * *

It had been ten minutes since he left... the tears were still falling hard. Bloodshot eyes stared down at the steering wheel, shaky hands obviously taking his regrets and getting weaker under the weight of not wanting to go... wherever he was even going.

In such a state of mind as he was, the usually conscious and careful Brandon went faster every turn. Brandon picked up speed in the blazing desert, not paying any attention to any signs of danger. It was here, far from civilization, that he suddenly veered out of control. Brandon's misty eyes widened, the boy screaming, as his precious car wrecked for the second time today. Before he knew it, smoke was rising from a completely creamed front motor. Brandon opened his car door, unfazed himself from the crash initial shock aside, and pulled himself up from the trench he landed in, stepping onto the sand coated road. He looked down onto the wreck that he had caused. A defeated look crossed his eyes as he wrapped his arms around himself. No way had his GPS system survived that, and he had idea where he was.

Then, he noticed something.

The back tire of his car had completely lost air, and in that tire appeared to be... a bullet hole?

As if on queue, the sound of a car parking behind him reached his ears. Fresh tears still falling aplenty, outfit dirtied from his pathetic climb from the ditch, a spent Brandon slowly turned to see... Silver.

That sinister adversary stepped out of his car, holding a pistol, "I thought I'd never catch one of you people alone."

Brandon's eyes widened in panic. He was unsure if there was any form of connection out here, but he pulled out his phone in attempts to call somebody, anybody. When he did pull his smartphone out though, it was immediately shot straight out of his hand. Brandon gasped as his Hamhung Universe Six fell to the asphalt in many pieces. Blue eyes darted back to Silver as he advanced towards him, waving his gun, "I'd rather talk personally." He locked and loaded the pistol, "Now, hands in the air."

While Brandon could have asked just when he started taking prisoners, he was far too exhausted and already depressed as decaf coffee to even speak. All he could do, defeated enough as he was, was to raise his hands in surrender.

* * *

Gage stepped into the room. The familiar room, with its really poor couch and dozens of picture frames, was empty. Gage shrugged, thinking that Wyatt was possibly downstairs. He walked over to the elevator and pulled the lever down halfway. The team had learned that if they pulled it halfway, they didn't fall crashing like usual. Thus, pulling it halfway was the usual thing. Even speed king Gage hated how fast it went...

After several minutes of simply leaning against the elevator shaft, Gage was at the bottom. As soon as the elevator door opened, the teen looked around the... surprisingly vacant... facility.

"Rhett?" Gage shouted, "Wyatt? Brandon?"

Thus, the hunt began.

Worry built up more and more each second, as more and more doors and departments were left empty. Whether it be observation room or the spa, nobody was there. Nothing, zilch, nada.

Eventually, even if it took scowering the entire institution he had grown used to, Gage noticed the light to the pizza buffet kitchen was on. Suddenly realizing it, Gage facepalmed at his own stupidity and ran towards the most obvious place to look for an emotionally unstable Rhett.

Indeed, Rhett was there. He leaned against the silver counter as he gorged a stock piled, meaty pizza into his mouth. Gage's relieved smile only stayed for a moment though, fading when he realized that pure deadness in Rhett's eyes made his hazel pupils appear more grey. It was an expression Gage had only seen him carry in one other place ever... the months following his dad's abandonment.

Gage's face was sober as he spoke, "Rhett, you okay?"

Rhett was unresponsive, still shoving the pizza into his face. He was easily an emotional eater, Wyatt was too, but Wyatt was nowhere to be seen here. None the less, Gage had suspicions. Something huge had to have happened to make Rhett dull like this, but what? And where were the others?

Gage needed Rhett to speak to him, "Rhett. Where are Wyatt and Brandon?"

Rhett only ate faster, now down to the crust. Gage walked over and took Rhett's hand, pulling the remaining pizza crust away from his mouth, "Rhett, now is not the time to drown your sorrows in pizza."

Rhett yanked his arm away from him, bland eyes suddenly having a supernova explosion of fire as he burst back to life, "Leave me alone!"

Gage could not help but take a moment to feel betrayed. Rhett was emotionally unstable, and he was getting nothing from him. It was Rhett who called him here though, and at this point he was not going back home.

"Rhett," Gage approached his companion softly, "I don't know what on earth is happening, but it's easy to tell something's happening. Rhett, I need you to talk to me. Can't I help you?"

Rhett shook his head, starting to sink beneath a shell again as he hugged himself, "No... No..."

Gage extended his hand to him, gently placing it on his shoulder. Childhood memories of when this type of vulnerability was a common thing crossed his mind. It was rarely seen today. What on earth could have happened to break Rhett's usually cheery momentum, especially in only one day? Gage smiled, like he always did. Green could try to reach him in his unreachable, he had reached him before. A still half unresponsive Rhett did not even glance at him, just swallowing the last of his pizza crust.

Gage pressed on, "Rhett, let me help you." His eyes were shaded in nostalgia, he himself falling into weakness as he repeated the same words from so long ago, "Let me in, please? You don't have to be gone like this. Let me help you live, we can rise up again."

Rhett still did not respond, but was tearing up. Easily remembering the words, Rhett grew less tense. Like that, they stood there together in the silence that was each other's mournful company. It was a stretching, long moment, but for once Gage was not in a rush. Rhett needed him to reduce speed to his level, and Gage was more concerned for his best friend than finding answers.

* * *

Wyatt's ranger green eyes widened in shock when he saw it. The whisper escaped him, "No..."

There was Brandon's familiar, azure car. It was down in a deep trench at the side of the road. Emerald pupils wide, Wyatt pulled over and leaped directly into the trench. Not taking any mind to any minor scraps collected by the fall, he raced to the open car door, "Brandon?"

Yet, much to his relief, an injured Brandon was not in there. Yet, at the same time, _no_ Brandon was in there. His helmet, however, was carelessly tossed into the passenger seat. Wyatt reached past the broken glass and grabbed the functioning helmet. The entire thing was like its own computer, it could track team members, it could scan large areas...

Wyatt had actually used it several times throughout the team's career, he understood at least the basics of how it worked. He yanked his own helmet off and put Brandon's on, pressing several buttons on the control panel. Wyatt started pacing as he waited, "Please show up, please show up, please show up..."

And indeed, Brandon's signature, shown in a blue dot, came up. Wyatt smirked in victory as he raced back to his truck. Once inside, he made several modifications to the tracking device so he could stalk down his best friend. As he started the car, the stuntman pulled out his phone and dialed Rhett's number.

* * *

Rhett was finally starting to come to again, but when finally functioning just a little bit more again, all he could do was reach and hug Gage, staring off into space with a grief filled expression. At this point he still did not speak. After several moments of holding him, careful of his wound while clinging to his buddy, Gage decided to try to communicate again, his chin on his head as he spoke, "Rhett, what happened?"

A moment of silence crept across them. It felt long, so long. Easily struggling with so much pain, Gage could feel silent tears causing a stain on his shirt. For another long moment on top of all others, he felt he had failed to hold a conversation with him again. Oak eyes slightly widened in surprise when Rhett finally spoke, his voice cracking in an emptiness so deep, "He left..."

Gage was confused even more than before. That two worded sentence could point in a million directions. As Rhett vibrated in his embrace, Gage held him tighter, starting to rock back and forth, "Who? Rhett, I'm confused."

Rhett squeezed his jacket, slightly pulling at his neck collar and threatening to choke. Gage only winced though, understanding this was coming from looking back on bad memories.

"Brandon..." Rhett whispered, closing his eyes as more tears escaped him, "Brandon, he's... gone. ..."

Gage felt panic slowly rise in his heart. Brandon left? Brandon was gone? Gage at first felt somewhat disappointed, not getting it one bit. Why would Brandon leave work early, especially after promising him he would watch over the team? Then, of course, how Rhett was reacting hit him. He did not just leave for the day, did he? Brandon left to... perhaps take on Silver alone? Gage did not know, but with how Rhett always looked up to Brandon, and was behaving now, this was serious. And still, the question cruised through through his mind, where was Wyatt in all this? Was he chasing Brandon?

Rhett whispered, "First dad, now him..."

Gage was so shocked upon the mentioning of Rhett's father, he outright yanked him out of their hug. Hands on his shoulders, Gage attempted to make eye contact, "Your dad?"

Rhett finally looked at him. Gage instantly saw, up close, the look in his eyes so similar to the time Gage saw him after his dad's death. It was a look of silent surrender to a world without a cherished soul. A look that accepted how he was left behind and would suffer for it. When did Rhett become blank and hollow like this anywhere else? Even if Brandon was his well respected friend, fresh anger built up in Gage as he asked the question, _Brandon, what have you done?_

Gage tried to keep calm, but was stayed the task of continuing to be the serene shoulder when Rhett's phone went off. Gage pulled a significantly weakened Rhett's phone from his pocket and saw that it was... Wyatt.

Eyes widened as adrenaline rushed through his body, Gage instantly answered, "Wyatt?"

Confusion was in the southerner's voice, " _Gage_? You have Rhett's phone?"

Gage started pacing back and forth, Rhett too caught up in his inner struggle to care, "Yeah, I have his phone. But please, for the love of Chrysler, what on earth happened today? Rhett's having an emotional breakdown! Where is Brandon?!"

"Rhett?" Wyatt's voice bled in shock and worry, "Is he okay? I only noticed Brandon leaving and tried to follow him."

Gage was becoming more and more frustrated, "I don't know what just happened, but Rhett also confirmed Brandon left and is going freak about it!"

Wyatt sighed, his voice stinging in regret, "Never should of let him go talk to him..."

"Wyatt," Gage's voice was stern, "Where is Brandon?"

Wyatt could be heard meddling with something, "I don't know exactly, but it's somewhere in Comb Avenue, the dilapidated part of town. Just saw his car, it's in pieces, got his helmet and found his signature."

Wyatt himself seemed to be nearing a state of panic as he continued, "Gage, this is far too much of a distance to cover, on foot, so soon after a car crash. He must of been driven there, and... his phone is on the ground and has a bullet hole..."

Gage's commander mode was instantly activated, the possibility of Brandon being abducted quickly overriding the anger caused by... whatever he did to Rhett... and dropping out on them all. "Wyatt, head straight there. Send me the coordinates, I'll meet you there."

"I'm sending them through the comn messenger now!" Through his voice, Gage could hear Wyatt already starting his truck and driving away.

Gage received the lettered coordinates in a text, which was sent to his own phone. Green responded, "Okay, got them. Meet you there!" And he instantly hung up, turning to Rhett, who was finally back to reality and was watching with frightened eyes.

"What's happening?" He whispered as Gage approached him.

Gage put a free hand on his shoulder, "Brandon could be in danger and we're trying to find him, that's what's happening."

Rhett's expression slightly changed to, was it sorrow? "Brandon? Where is he?"

Gage shook his head, "Somewhere downtown? I don't know exactly."

Rhett teared up more, "Will I see him again?"

More and more, that feeling of dread was causing goose bumps to creep up his back. Never since his father's disappearance did Rhett ask such things so openly and vulnerably. Gage felt tears developing in his own eyes, caught in some kind of mess he did not understand or comprehend, yet was trying to jump in and solve off the bat. "I hope so," he whispered. Gage took Rhett's hand, tugging him away, "No time to change, we're too pressed on time."

With that, they raced to their cars, not even grabbing their helmets as they got in. As they prepared to go, Rhett fumbling clumsily at even holding his keys, the dark, sarcastic thought entered Gage's mind. _Yeah, we'll see Brandon again... and when we do, I'm going to have a happy, sweet, little chat with him over tea and crumpets._

* * *

*Smack!*

On his knees, wrists cuffed and arms wrapped around the large pipe behind him, Brandon took yet another blow. His vision blurred for a moment, barely taking in the crumbling walls of the broken house they were in. The single couch in the corner, covered in rubble, suggested that they were in a living room. Shades of darkness only illuminated by the cracks in the walls of peeling wallpaper, Brandon's vision readjusted after looking upon the dusty, sooty ground. Another hit was landed on his skull, causing Brandon to wince as his head fell lower to the ground, causing strain on his arms and back.

Brandon saw the silver pants, dirtied over not being washed in several days, standing firmly in front of him. Brandon looked up, the techie seeing the face of his adversary for the first time. Visor up, the Melanesian born boy had dark skin and blond, curled hair. Silver watched him with amethyst, brooding eyes, "Wow, LeBay, you really _are_ soft! Have you always been this pathetic?"

Before Brandon could reply, even if he was going to, Silver lifted his leg and kicked him in the side. "Leaving the safety of your protective, brooding cave when the predator is on the prowl? Bad idea."

Silver kicked Brandon again, this time in the stomach. Already covered in bruises from the ongoing beating, a battered Brandon's chains prevented him from holding his aching stomach. A choked cry escaped him as a third kick was also landed on his stomach. Whatever scrap of anything he had left before this was being kicked away now. Brandon moaned as Silver reached, grabbing Brandon's thin hair and pulling his face up to meet his eyes. "Because the predator caught its prey, and its quite hungry."

Silver backhanded Brandon, who had blood starting to trickle from the side of his mouth. "What am I hungry for you ask?" Silver smacked his other cheek, "... Tonight, I hunger for vengeance."

Silver stopped hitting him at this point, reaching and gently holding Brandon's chin. He lifted the gadget guy's face to meet eye to eye again, "Science. It should be such a beautiful thing. Science has built up the world... and yet, it's funny, because it managed to destroy mine. When I was young, science changed everything and decided my every moment, my every relationship. And it stung, just like those petty slaps stung you."

Silver let go of Brandon before clenching his fist, punching him hard enough for his entire body to sway from the impact. Brandon gasped under his current pain. Silver just bent down to him, shaking his finger as he lowered one knee to the floor, "Now, I finally have the opportunity to strike back. My soul purpose here, why I'm doing what I'm doing, is to make your lives miserable."

"Brandon?"

Both kids eyes widened at the southern voice calling from hallways elsewhere in the house. Brandon caught a moment of shock in his captor's purple eyes, but the surprise almost instantly died away. With a look that changed to thrill, the silver driver looked towards the hall that started at the entrance of the room. They both knew who was out there. Silver reached for his visor, pulling it down to his nose, and continued off his last sentence, "... Starting with him."

A devilish smirk spread across his face as he pulled the visor all the way down, his facial features hidden once again. From the hallway, the silhouette of a familiar, wild and western boy came into view. Finally seeing him, looking for a lost companion, Brandon's eyes instantly flooded with tears. LeBay did not even notice how Silver stood up, looking down on him in pure triumph as he opened his mouth, "Over here, rancher."

Instantly, Wyatt's head snapped in their direction. He took several paces forwards, stepping out from the shadows as the out of uniform teen, who wasn't even wearing any form of headgear, saw Brandon chained to a pipe. Instantly, a look of pure rage spread across his face. Eyes hosting the dark sunspots of passion, his normally warm, positive energy exploded into deadly,solar flares as he clenched his fists, screaming, "LET HIM GO!"

Wyatt instantly charged towards Silver, raising a fist in fire and fury.


	14. Chapter XIV - Little Red Dying Hood

"I'm beginning to notice a trend here," Wyatt scoffed, "We come at you, you beat us up."

Wyatt was on his knees, but still chuckled. Several paces ahead of him, Silver watched him as he held him at gun point, "It's funny, isn't it, how I tend to wipe the floor with you, but..."

Wyatt was staring right into the canister of the pistol, yet was surprised when Silver cast the gun aside. With that, he faked a yawn, "... This is starting to get repetitive. At least the gun thing is."

Wyatt seemed offended, "Wha- are you not entertained?" Even in his wounded pride, he saw his chance and stood up, "Fine! Well, how about a knuckle sandwich?"

He lunged after Silver, attempting to punch him again.

As they entered a fist fight, back at the pipe, Brandon attempted to wiggle something down his sleeve. Out of his shirt fell a dark blue _LeBay Scientific Institution and Research Lab_ pen. Brandon picked up the pen and jabbed at his handcuffs, attempting to get loose.

Across the rubble of the broken building, footsteps crushing glass and scattering ash, the fist fight between silver and gold was steadily escalating. Silver blocked an attack from Wyatt, actually slightly weakening from the force behind it. With Silver briefly straggling, Wyatt raised his leg in a kick. Silver somehow saw it coming, with lightning fast reflexes grabbing his leg and pulling him. Losing his balance, Wyatt quickly fell to the ground, pieces of sharp debris causing cuts and sores. Silver took a step back, casual and lean, "Give up?"

Wyatt just growled, getting back up again and attempting to attack him again. Stubborn and ever so slightly crazy, he still managed to keep a straight posture while fighting this time around, but was still notably sloppy. In about a minute's time, he was already wearing down against the faster and more agile silver brawler. Eventually, Silver kicked him back, swiftly ducking down and picking up a glass shard. With the agility of a jaguar, the smoothness of water, Silver raised an arm and quickly aimed the thin, pointed glass at him. In a flash, the shard was thrown at him. Wyatt was a brawler for the most part, but still maintained good dexterity. The stunt man swerved aside, attempting to dodge it. While yes, he did manage to evade a killer blow, there was still a somewhat of an success... The glass narrowly missed pulling his left eye out, causing blood to fall from a large cut at the side of his face, close to the same level as his eye.

Even though the cut was not serious, the pain was enough to cause someone used to bruises and bumps, not open wounds, to cry out in pain. Wyatt grabbed his wound, a following gasp escaping him as his knees even shook for several moments. Silver seized the opportunity and kicked his lower legs, bringing him to his knees once again. Silver smirked upon watching Wyatt suffering, but pulled a move that surprised everyone. From behind his back, previously unnoticed, a small injection needle was clenched in his gloved hand. The thick, almost black in color liquid sloshed as Silver walked up to a wincing Wyatt. "Like I said earlier," he spoke, "Gold is overrated."

He swiftly jabbed Wyatt with the needle.

One eye shut, Wyatt could hear the liquid pumping into him. Silver placed a hand on his shoulder, pulling close to his ear, "How does it feel?" the silver driver spat venom, "How does it feel to suffer? How does it feel to be the last one out? To be forgotten? To be left behind?"

Silver smirked from beneath his helmet, "Something tells me that out of all you lot, you know the most. But still, not enough..."

Wyatt's eyes widened, weaknesses buried reemerging in his mind, "How? - ... do you ?-"

"Die!" Silver whispered with passion, pulling the empty needle out, "Wither up and _die_. Isn't that what you thought you were good for anyways?"

Tears formed in the southerner's eyes, "Not-not true... I'm better than that!"

Silver only chuckled, "Goodbye."

With that, Silver got up, raising the glass vial and slamming it against his skull. Another kick added for good measure, he knocked Wyatt out instantly. Brandon's head snapped up at the sound of glass shattering, witnessing it. "No..."

"Wyatt, no!"

Both silver and blue shot their attention to the entryway to the room, standing there were two more people. Green and red stood there for a moment, eyeing Wyatt's limp body, face down on the floor. Rhett was the first to look up at Silver with fury, clenching his fists in emotional highs, "You-"

"-Yeah, I beat him." Silver took the credit, "What you gonna do about it, you punky-"

Gage immediately responded, quick (what else) to anger and raced towards him, "Don't toy with him!"

Immediately, the fast paced fist fight commenced. Speed fighter against speed fighter, Gage's whirlwind of expertly performed blows and kicks only did so much against Silver's extremely well initiated defense. Unlike Wyatt, who relied his fists, Gage was primarily a kicker. Several side kicks aimed for him at once, Gage had completely forgotten about his wound...

Wyatt was injured, Brandon was chained, Rhett had lost his light. No more. Gage wanted this no more. Enough was enough, he felt it burning hard in him. Lightning struck sharply inside, an impulsiveness hotter than the flames of passion, and it wasn't exactly a good thing. Gage himself driven to the edge, he was on the full offensive, yet he did a poor job at driving him back.

None the less, it gave Rhett time to run over to Wyatt. He dropped to his knees, not minding the glass that scraped at his legs, "Wyatt?"

The sound of the two fighting several paces away barely registered. Rhett pulled Wyatt into his arms and checked his pulse. It was strong.

"Just fall already!" Gage shouted in rage.

Silver laughed, "Never!"

Rhett placed Wyatt's head down on a cleared section of the floor, "You'll be okay, just wake up..."

*Clink!* Brandon finally managed to break the handcuffs. As they fell to the ground, he pulled his arms in front of him, warming up again. Still feeling miserable himself, his quiet escape almost went unnoticed...

... That was almost.

He did not notice, neither did Gage, the way Silver perked up when the handcuffs hit the ground. Silver growled, his mood suddenly changing, "No more games..."

Out of the blue, a single offensive move was unleashed from the defense, and he aimed for the bullet wound Gage had obviously forgotten. Needless to say, the heavy impact **hurt**! Instantly, a pain filled shout escaped him. The wound was little under two days old, the bullet wound actually started to bleed again. As Gage dropped to his knees, Rhett looked up in sudden panic, "Gage!"

Silver grabbed a second shard of large glass, not aiming for Rhett but someone else. "Lights out, LeBay!"

Brandon's eyes briefly widened at the realization that he was Silver's target, but blue orbs weakened with a grim face that said it all - he was going to accept his fall. Silver chuckled, happy to have completely broken someone before killing them. The thrill of the battle making him a little blind to the world around him, Silver expertly threw the glass sliver.

Rhett instantly bolted up, running, "No!"

Gage barely winced his eyes open, only able to witness it.

Brandon closed his eyes, his closing thoughts dark and suicidal.

Fading to black.

The sound of glass piercing flesh was unmistakable.

...

*Drip* ... *drip,* *drip.*

Brandon felt secure, warm arms wrapped around him. For a moment, the darkness from his closed eyes seemed crimson. It was weird, he knew he was alive, and he felt... no pain...

 _Oh no..._

Brandon's eyes flashed open.

There was Rhett.

The pain was an overload. Silent tears fell under such physical strain, he winced in attempts not to whimper. As usual, Rhett chose the worst time to crack a joke, "G-got your back..."

Indeed, the large shard was embedded in his back, possibly lodged in a vital spot.

Brandon's eyes widened, his voice nothing more than a small mumble, "Rhett..."

Rhett finally choked in pain, but hugged him tighter. Barely hanging on the verge of unconscious, he spoke again, "You may try to push me away..." Long, hallow breaths raised awareness of his horrid state, "But you will never shove me off."

Even the last three words barely made it out, grip weakened as his eyes shut. Like that, just like that, Rhett Rowan fell to the ground without a hint of consciousness.

Brandon's eyes only widened larger, frozen in place. He barely processed Gage's "no," a painful scream that echoed off the crumbling walls. Silver watched in awe. Even with his helmet covering his face, his body language showed a moment's shock before he... started laughing.

Brandon finally felt something different than guilt and sorrow. Finally, a frozen heart seemed to quickly thaw, overtaken by... anger. It was deep, dark, explosive as ten thousand nuclear bombs. Rage boiled as internal temperatures dramatically rose from zero to blazing. His face was hardened in fiery, the violent water spouts that were his eyes locked on a silver driver.

For the first time in his life, Brandon acted out on pure anger alone.

How did Brandon get from the pipe to right in front of Silver? His vision was too choppy to tell. When was he strong enough to knock him to the ground, his helmet rolling several feet away? On top of him, Brandon's dilated eyes were unable to half process, all physical pain was too numbed to realize. Brandon screamed, raising a fist and punching his enemy's cheek.

Yet it wasn't enough. Beyond the breaking point, border lining a mental breakdown, he just kept punching his face. Over and over and over again. It did not stop, every hit made him more high on the trap of revenge. Revenge could only do so much aside making even the calmest, sky blue hearts monstrous. As if Brandon had a heart left...

While insanity pushed Brandon so far, he punched so hard there was blood. Gage could of cared less, and despite his own wound dashed right up to his unconscious friend, "Rhett!"

Brandon was still punching, bony arms vibrating as he went past his physical limitations. He showed no signs of stopping or even slowing down... until another hand caught his bared fist. It was Wyatt. "Snap outta it!"

Suddenly, Brandon came to. He looked down and saw the silver driver was unconscious, blood trickling from the side of his mouth. It was there he noticed blood was on his own hands. The only thing alluding to Silver even being alive was the rising and falling of his chest. Wyatt looked awful, not only did he have a massive, bleeding slash across his face, one that would heal into a permanent scar, but he appeared dreadfully pale. Brandon instantly got up, staring at his slightly bloodied hands. Brandon started to hyperventilate, but he felt a hand on his shoulder. Was that the sun breaking through the dark grey clouds? Or was that his best friend again? As pale as he was, Wyatt smiled softly, "Was that... personality there?"

Brandon was the complete opposite of the sun. He was like the dark, lifeless, archaeology dead moon. Yet, why did the moon shine in the sky, still dazzle the world? It reflected the sun's light. And for all the horror Brandon had experienced today, a small bit of light was there, just enough to return to sanity upon seeing Wyatt awake. It was here though that senses returned, and the sound of Gage crying was easily pinpointed. They both quickly turned to see Gage in tears, holding the unconscious youngest member of the team in his arms. He was bawling, and it caused Wyatt's weary eyes to widen. Had he ever seen Gage cry like that before? As another mournful scream echoed across the room, Brandon gulped and ran over to him.

Wyatt attempted to follow, yet... his vision was groggy. A moment of light headedness attacked, causing him to almost fall to the ground. The stuntman barely caught himself, maintaining balance as hot chills came over him. Standing still, wide eyed, he wondered what on earth that silver driver injected into him.

Brandon fell to his knees, feeling more guilty than ever for anything. The sight of Gage weeping with the weight of a cloudburst caused surprising determination to form inside though, or at least gave him the strength to function well again. Brandon wiped the blood on his blue, torn shirt. Brandon ever so gently reached and, closing his eyes as he expected the worst, checked Rhett's pulse.

...

*Thump* ... *Thump* ... ... *Thump* ... *Thump*

Brandon's eyes flashed open, light returning to them as he instantly beamed in joy, "He's alive!" Brandon started laughing, "Rhett's alive!"

Gage slowly looked up, eyes bloodshot, and dared to also check his pulse. Gage started laughing too, "Buddy!"

Gage hugged the limp body, tears of joy replacing tears of sorrow. Brandon, meanwhile, noticed the glass shard in his back. Brandon took the shard and quickly, like a band aid, pulled it smoothly out. As much as nausea was attacking him, Brandon simply tossed the piece of glass aside. He reached and placed a hand on his leader's shoulder, "Gage, he may be alive, but he's bleeding a lot more than he should."

Gage seemed to be slipping into a state of unresponsiveness.

"Gage," Wyatt walked up to them from behind Brandon, eyes filled with sick worry, "Rhett doesn't have much time."

Gage looked up at Wyatt, his teary face admitting his weakened heart. Even if Wyatt was younger - only by a couple months - Gage had never seemed so young to him at all before this. None the less, Gage sighed, tears finally starting to slow, "Are _you_ okay?"

Wyatt was snow white, sweating, and visibly shaking. What courage and selflessness it took though, he just shrugged, "I'm fine, but it's not me we should be worrying about..." Emerald eyes were focused on Rhett.

Brandon looked over his shoulder to Wyatt, a proud smile on his face, "Gage is the fastest, he should drive Rhett to the ER."

Gage nodded, face hardened in agreement, "Should we treat him before I go?"

Brandon turned back to him, shaking his head, "No time for that. You take his head, I've got his feet. Keep his head above his heart."

Still feeling heavy as lead, but still capable of trying, Brandon and Gage lifted Rhett. Wyatt immediately dashed towards the exit, "I'll 'git the doors!"

The door to the green sports car was opened, a bloody Rhett was put in the passenger seat. No time was wasted, Gage jumped into the driver's seat and slammed the door. Immediately, with the speed of an agile cheetah, Gage sped off. Subconsciously, knowing Wyatt needed it, Brandon offered Wyatt his arm, "Lean on me."

Wyatt really must of been poisoned bad, because he did not argue or fight. Feeling Wyatt's full body weight almost caused him to drop, but Brandon kept hanging on, "How are you really?"

As if on queue, Wyatt bent over and emptied his stomach's contents onto the ground. Stubborn as a mule though, he shakily said, "Not bad."

Brandon's eyes narrowed, "I'm getting you to the hospital."

Attempting to get a better grip on him, Brandon helped him to the yellow truck parked several paces away. Multiple times, Wyatt staggered, tripping over his own feet. Brandon felt like he was pretty much dragging him. Several moments closer, Wyatt quickly shouted to stop. Brandon stopped, waiting as Wyatt vomited again. His arm, weakly clinging around Brandon's shoulders, felt quite cold. The possibly that Rhett was not the only one with his life on the line crossed Brandon's mind, it terrified him. After Wyatt finally stopped, Brandon pulled him towards the truck slowly, "Keep it easy, you're exhausted."

At this point, the only thing keeping Wyatt on his feet was Brandon. As Brandon opened the truck door with his free arm, he spoke, "I'm driving, can you climb into the passenger seat?"

Alas, it proved to be difficult to push and pull Wyatt up the mountain sized gab between the ground and elevated truck. Only after Wyatt was in, leaning his head against the head rest, did Wyatt start becoming more honest, "I see two of everything."

Brandon buckled them both up, "Not good." He slammed the door, starting the truck. As unused to driving it as he was, the fear of losing his closest friend pushed him to slam the gas pedal, "Rest up, I've got this."

* * *

Never before had Gage driven this fast. His car completely maxed out, steering so loose it neared uncontrollability, the car zipped past blurred streets so fast, pedestrians felt more like it was a brief breeze. Those who saw him only could catch the vehicle soaring past like a green bullet.

Somehow, Gage was never crashing, even if inside he felt like his entire world was. That hospital was still so far away, it was such a large city, his hands were sweaty with worry. He did not notice Rhett squirming in the seat next to him, glazed eyes slightly opening. Only when the boy whimpered in pain, tears falling from hazel eyes, did Gage realize Rhett was barely conscious.

"It..." Rhett whispered, squeezing his eyes shut, "... It hurts."

Gage dare not take his eyes off the road at this speed, but he took one hand off the steering wheel and placed it on his shoulder. Green tried so hard to comfort him, "I know it hurts, I know, it's okay."

Tears started forming in Gage's own eyes. Circling thoughts raced as he wondered how on earth it all had come to this.


	15. Chapter XV - Turning Point

**A/N:**

 **Welp. Angst.**

 **Okay, I really enjoyed writing this one. Quite obviously I think Gage has hard feelings towards Brandon right now, but I wanted to show Gage pushing past that and still encouraging him. It would show his strength as a natural born leader.**

 **~ Ashla.**

* * *

It was like the fading in and out of a movie, seconds he opened his eyes. Each time he closed them then opened again he saw new things. His head pounding, his weak heartbeat heard by his own self, the cluttered communications between multitudes of people was not distinguishable. The sound of medical equipment, the beeping of monitors, was choppy and out of sync. He felt his stretcher shaking as it sped across the ground. It was so hard to process, none of this would be stored in his memory banks. The one thing he understood in this rapid chaos was that something was horribly wrong.

* * *

Out of the purple dusk of the dreary evening, Brandon pulled Wyatt into the waiting room. While small strength was collected in the drive, that strength was already just about spent. Brandon was shaking himself, in fear more than physical depletion, as he lowered his friend onto a chair. Yellow's mouth was wide open, gasping for air. He was sweating so much his hair was becoming wet and greasy. He was done throwing up now, but he had told Brandon he was having these wretched headaches.

Brandon helped him to remain seated, more worried than ever as they waited. About a minute into the wait, Brandon caught Gage racing towards them from down the halls, eyes wide. As Gage skidded to a halt, Brandon closed his eyes.

"Is he okay?" Gage asked in panic.

Wyatt scoffed, barely smiling in his physical wreck, "I'm breathing."

Brandon opened his eyes, looking up to his leader in devastating defeat, "I'm so sorry, this is my fault."

Gage looked at him, they maintained a moment of eye contact. For a moment, Brandon saw it. The way his eyes shone, the raw rashness and distinctive dilation. Were his fears confirmed here? Was Gage upset with him? Did he blame him? Gage's eyes softened after this though, he smiled at the gadget guy, "Now is not the time to get angry or dwell on regret, Brandon."

"What he said." Wyatt obviously agreed with Gage's statement.

Just then, a nurse called from the desk, "Wyatt Yelena?"

Brandon pulled Wyatt's arm over his shoulders, nodding to his friend, "Here we go, buddy."

When they stood up, Wyatt seemed to flush from pale to red, then back to pale. Suddenly vibrating more violently, an unusual panic spread across his eyes. In a voice that hinted he was in pain, he whispered, "I can't."

Brandon froze, looking helplessly at Gage. Gage came to Wyatt's other side, also giving him the option to lean on him, "It's okay, we got you."

From the desk, she called again, "Yelena?"

Gage realized that Wyatt was unable to make it across the room. Green lifted his free hand, waving it, as he shouted, "Over here! Help!"

The nurse, a young redhead, raced out to them. She looked Wyatt down, who seemed barely conscious, and shook her head, "We'll be right back with a stretcher."

Moments later, Wyatt found himself being lowered onto a stretcher. Pale, sweaty, and shaky, he did not fight the stretcher one bit, despite his ego screaming that it made him look weak. At this point, he had to swallow his pride because he knew... his life was in peril. Gage and Brandon could not help but hover close to the scene, watching with desperate eyes. Wyatt started to breathe more heavily, his hoarse breaths seemed hallow despite the heavy rising and falling of his chest. The nurse turned to the boys and smiled, several others still making sure he was secure. Brandon seemed on the verge of tears - today, he had single handedly cried more tears than he had in the last five years combined. He was fighting it though as the nurse nodded to them, "We've got him, he'll be okay."

Brandon and Gage exchanged uncertain glances, then turned to watch as they left.

A moment of silence passed.

Brandon crashed down on a seat, wiping away any tears that did fall, "If-if he doesn't make it..."

Gage turned sharply to him, "He _will_ make it! He has to!"

Brandon looked up to an optimistic Gage, unable to do anything from smiling to lashing out at him. Gage walked next to him and sat down.

A moment passed before Brandon asked a question with a wince, "Rhett?"

Gage's eyes were shadowed with worry, "They said he was pierced in a vital organ. Not deep enough to kill him instantly, but to ki-kill hi-im..."

"Slowly." Brandon finished hopelessly.

"Yeah," Gage rested his head on his palm, "That."

Brandon turned and watched Gage - and gasped, "Oh, Gage!"

Gage looked down to see his shirt was covered in dry blood from his opened wound. Instantly, waves of cautious embarrassment spread over his now red face, "Oh... Uh... Wa-was I walking around like this?" Nervous chuckles escaped him.

Brandon sighed, "Let's check with your doctor." With that, the young genius took his leader's hand and they walked up to the front.

As Gage was being patched up, Brandon paced back and forth at the other end of the room. It was a quick fix, the way Gage liked it, but Brandon was for once less patient than him. Gage still had a bloody shirt, and was nervously asking his mom to come over with a new shirt. By the way Gage cringed immediately after asking, his entire body shivering, Brandon could tell she was not happy about this.

"It-it's not me! I'm not the reason we're all over here. Wyatt and Rhett have it far worse, I didn't even notice I was bleeding until-"

From across the room, Brandon heard the scream, " **BLEEDING**?"

Gage had to pull his cell away from his ear, looking at Brandon with sheer dread. "... I'm dead."

Brandon smiled in amusement as the usually cool and chill Gage cowered as he spoke into the phone, "Everything is already taken care of. I'm fine. I just need a new shirt."

A moment later, a nervous smile spread across his face, "So... How lo- okay. Great! Bye!"

He immediately hung up on her, goosebumps on his skin, "I'd rather take another bullet than her..."

Brandon scoffed in amusement. As they left the hospital room together, the dreary exhaustion spread across Brandon's entire being. It was only noon, and he was experiencing what was easily his new single worst day of his life. He watched Gage with heavy eyes, "You think we can check on the others?"

Gage slowed, placing his hand on Brandon's shoulder. The touch sent shockwaves of chills through his body, but he was too drained to physically react. Gage all had good intentions though as he responded, "I'll check on the guys. Can you wait for my mom for me?"

Brandon blindly followed his orders, not even thinking but trying to take each next best step. Understanding that Gage most likely was trying to avoid his angry mother - and realizing Gage was thinking that seeing their teammates at their worst was bad for Brandon, he accepted, "Okay."

Gage stepped closer to Brandon, putting his other hand on his shoulder, "Brandon, they will be okay. They're strong. Wyatt's a fighter, Rhett's stubborn. They can make it."

Brandon lowered his head, unable to meet his eyes in the growing shame that made him want to curl up and die, "If they do survive," he asked in a dead tone, "Would they ever forgive me?"

Gage's mouth gaped open, "Brandon..."

Brandon choked, "You gave me responsibility, I blew it. Wyatt gave me friendship, I left it. Rhett gave me his heart, I..."

A moment of helpless silence fell between them. As many doctors, patients, and visitors walked by in a blur, Gage noticed the bruise on Brandon's cheek. Deep sorrow spread across him over how shriveled Brandon had become. Gage removed his hands from his slumped shoulders, but as he scanned the brightly lit hall, he took his arm, "Come on."

With that, Gage led Brandon into an elevator shaft. As the clear, silver door closed, Gage hit every single button. It was going to be a long ride. As Gage stood guard by the door, hoping to keep this shaft private all the way up, Brandon huddled in the corner, hugging himself. Gage kept an eye on the door, but still spoke, "How long have we all known each other?"

Brandon seemed unmoved by the question. Even worse, he gave him the answer like he was a calculator, "Since first grade."

"And that's a long time, right?" Gage was pushing.

"Nine years." Brandon filled in the answer.

Gage finally looked at Brandon, "Yeah." A hint of a smile was on his face; Brandon saw through his blond hair. Gage also seemed to carry a large sadness, eyes misty, "Throughout these years, we've been through a lot. We were stupid kids; we grew up together. We started working for Larry, and we began to mature. When we started the team, remember what he said? Countless people would need us, Larry and the facility would need us, but most of all _we would need each other_. Do you remember that, Brandon? Do you remember how we've depended on each other? We found out more about ourselves, Wyatt and I finally became friends... We got through all kinds of challenges from mutant animal cars to Larry's twin brother to the pear dumpling gang. With how long we've stuck by each other, through thick and thin, do you really think one day could change the bonds we forged? It certainly didn't change anything during the road pirate incident; remember that mess? Brandon, I..."

Gage walked over to Brandon, leaning on the wall next to him, "... We've always been in this together, always should be. No denying anger would be there, but we need each other more than ever. As long as we stay close-"

"-And that's the thing, isn't it?" Brandon immediately cut in, "I've been pushing you all away."

LeBay slid down onto the floor, Gage sat next to him, "Have you?"

Just then, the door dinged. The doors opened, a family of four, mom and dad and two kids below the ages of nine, were ready to step in. Immediately, Gage acted, "If you want speed, don't come into this one. All the buttons are pushed."

Even the kids gave the boys huddled in the corner odd glances. Of course, the family backed out. As the door closed, the question could be heard, "What were they doing on the germy floor, daddy?"

"They are emotional teenagers," the dad responded, "Doing their emotional teenage things."

As the elevator continued its cycle, a moment of embarrassed silence spread between the boys. Gage blinked, "Where was I?"

Brandon pulled himself out of his self-protective hug. Looking up at the ceiling, he let out a brave sigh. "I know what I have to do."

Brandon looked to Gage, who was listening with curious inquisitiveness. "Can I borrow your phone and make a call? Mine is kind of broken."

* * *

After stapling an "out of order" paper onto the wall of the elevator, the boys got off on what was the sixteenth floor. Brandon asked that the call be made personally, and Gage was roaming the halls while Brandon locked himself inside the restroom.

It was weird when, from this floor, his name was suddenly called out, "Gage Green?"

Gage had been walking through the hall, but slowed to a stop at the unfamiliar voice called his name. Gage turned around to see a doctor, a middle aged brunette with sharp hair and glasses, watching him. Gage was a bit nervous about the stranger, and gulped before approaching him.

The man nodded, "My name is Percy Anthony, Yelena's doctor for many years."

Hearing Wyatt's surname suddenly arose awareness of why he was having this conversation, "Yes, I'm an acquaintance of Wyatt's. Why'd you ask?"

A look of deep worry, one that caused anxiety to form in Gage, spread across his face, "We're trying everything we can, but we're losing him. We already called his guardian down, but he wants to talk with _anybody_ he knows..."

Gage nodded, already feeling that need for rushing making him run in place, "What room?"

"One hundred twenty nine."

Gage immediately raced towards it.

* * *

"Hello? Uncle LeBay?"

Brandon paced back and forth, feeling butterflies through the roof as his uncle responded, "Brandon LeBay?"

"I know I'm calling on an unfamiliar phone, I apologize." Brandon sighed as he leaned against the wall."

"Oh, it's okay, boy." LeBay chuckled, "We LeBay's must be resourceful."

Brandon nodded, sweat collecting on his hands and forehead, "Yeah, look, sir, I made my decision concerning the job."

Instantly, his voice deepened, "Yes?"

Brandon pulled the phone away for a moment. He let out a long, deep sigh before pulling the phone up. He calmly and professionally answered, "It was an honor to be given such an opportunity, but I unfortunately am not in any position to take the job. I apologize, but I have to turn down your gracious offer."

A moment of silence passed, his uncle responded in a warm voice, "I understand, Brandon. You are indeed very young; I can understand your reasoning. Thank you for considering the job opportunity, and good luck with your path."

Brandon sighed in relief, incredibly thankful for his surprising understanding, "Thank you."

"Yeah," Uncle LeBay added in, "You'll need luck with my sister. I don't remember how I survived growing up with her..."


	16. Chapter XVI - Solar Eclipse

The sound of hospital equipment and monitors beeping was the first thing to hit Gage as he entered the room. Several nurses were racing around, blurring his view of the entire room. The smell of vomit and sickness hit his nose, causing him to recoil. The nurses shouted to each other.

"Want me to lower the oxygen?" A woman called

A young man shouted back, "No, it's what's keeping him alive!"

Gage felt a bit overwhelmed by it. Shaking his head, he took a step back... and bumped into Doctor Anthony. He placed a hand on the boy's shoulder, shouting to the doctors, "Update?"

The young man stepped towards him, "We still have no idea what's doing this to him, but the good news is that he's breathing well again. If we could get his heartbeat up a little higher, we actually could be getting somewhere."

"See if you can get his heartbeat stable," Anthony responded, "And tell him I found somebody."

Anthony looked down to Gage and winked as he continued, "It's the kid that sent him here with a broken arm in third grade."

As the nurse turned to the nurses and patient, Gage's eyes widened at the suddenly unearthed memory...

* * *

 _"Jerk!"_

 _Through the elementary school's main halls, two boys consistently pushed and shoved. As the shoves became heavier, a young redhead swerved around them, trying to get into this - so called - conversation._

 _"Guys, pwease?" Rhett asked in his adorable lisp, "Stawp?"_

 _"Not right now, Rhett." Gage swatted his opponent on the shoulder, aggressive behavior fueled by simply looking at him._

 _"Apolomagize!" Wyatt shouted, grabbing him and pushing him back several feet._

 _"No!" Gage shouted, "You got sand in my lunch,_ you _apologize!"_

 _"You started it,_ Gage _!" In their usual banter, they continued fist fighting up to the front steps._

 _At this point, Rhett gave up, stepping into the sidelines as the fight attracted a very large crowd of kids. The kids started picking sides soon enough, rooting for either Gage or Wyatt, the poles were a mix of fifty fifty. Every single person in the school knew of the deep rivalry between Gage and Wyatt, the Great Food Fight of 2006 had made it onto the front page of the town newspaper (what, with nothing else going on in this place which was the cunning edge of boring.)_

 _The children chanted in union, pumping their rawkfists as he shouted their names. Wyatt was fueled by the audience, an attention seeker if there ever was one, and fought even harder. The fist fight was bound to end in a bloody nose, a visit to the principal's office, or both. However, nobody seemed to pay any form of notice to it. The thrill entranced Gage, who swiftly jabbed at his nemesis._

 _"Apolomigize!" Wyatt screamed, "'Ya ruined my-"_

 _"-Never!" Gage kicked him towards the edge of the steps, but both boys were too crazed to realize it. Hair sweaty, Wyatt braced for another hit as Gage ran up to him again, punching him on the chest..._

 _... And sending him flying down to high, steep fleet of stairs._

* * *

 _Tears continued to fall from his eyes as the car pulled into the city hospital. Of course, Gage had received lengthy lectures from both mom and dad, the principal, Rhett, his Uncle Bobby, and some random ambulance guy all separately. Once Brandon would find out, Gage was sure he would be hearing from him too. Every single word though, every single shout and waved arm, had barely hit numb ears. Did Gage hate Wyatt? Yes. Did he want terrible things to happen to him? Duh. Was he still angry for when he almost ran him over with that lawnmower? Absolutely. But did Gage ever plan on sending him to the hospital? ... No? Not at least in all seriousness he didn't._

 _Gage had never felt so ashamed in all his life. He was only in third grade and he felt like he had committed a heinous crime._

 _Gage waited for his dad, who looked down on him with disapproving eyes, to open the car door for him. It was a day since the Friday Gage pushed him down the school steps and broke his arm. Gage had not slept a wink last night. As far as his parents were concerned, Gage was going to go right in there and apologize to Wyatt. Gage pulled his always loaded backpack onto his back and followed them into the hospital. Since this entire thing began, after muttering 'ohmygoshohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh' to himself as the ambulance pulled into the school, Gage had not spoken once. For the last thirty some hours, Gage was pretty much mute. If he could of asked anything though, he would of been telling his parents he felt wretched enough and did not need them to be rubbing this in like they were. With a mother that scared the living daylights out of him though, Gage kept his trap shut._

 _Soon enough, the long, slow, trudging journey to Wyatt's room was complete. Gage had loathed the trip up, wanting to get this done and over with. A massive gulp escaped him as his parents opened the door. Gage winced, hoping Wyatt would not kill on sight. His parents waiting by the door, Gage stepped into the room where Wyatt was playing monster trucks on his bed._

 _Gage felt ready to tear up upon seeing his arm in a brightly colored, yellow cast. While Wyatt had been making engine sounds, he suddenly noticed Gage and stopped._

 _They made eye contact._

 _Well, here it was. Now was the time for Gage to break the long silence he had sentenced himself to and 'apolomogize.'_

 _Gage took a long breath..._

 _" **You stupid, insolent, self centered jerk! You made me do this to you, freak! I hate you! I hate your guts! But for some reason I feel guilty, so I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, you idiot! I hate you, but I'm so sorry and I could not sleep last night! I've been feeling awful, I can't live with myself! I'm so, so sorry!** " As Gage belted it out like the lead vocalist in a screamo band, he bawled out of the deeply rooted shame he felt._

 _He just kept shouting. A million apologies erupting as he pretty much fell to his knees, beginning to beg for forgiveness._

 _His parents exchanged surprised glances, not sure whether to pull Gage out and lecture him on name calling or... laugh and watch where this was going._

 _After about five minutes of Gage's nonstop meltdown, he finally lost his voice. Wyatt watched his rival, who gave up trying to speak, with quite dilated eyes. Finally, Gage pulled his backpack off his back. His parents raised eyebrows as Gage rummaged through the book bag as school supplies, papers falling out. Surprise crossed everybody's faces when he pulled out a package._

 _Despise his hoarse voice sounding painful to use, Gage spoke again, "I won this at the dumb arcade machine the other day. I thought it fits your taste, and I'd never wear this stupid thing anyways."_

 _Wyatt slowly took the poorly wrapped box with his good arm and opened it with his hand and teeth. After unwrapping it, seeing what it was, Wyatt's eyes went soft, "Aw..."_

 _It was a yellow cap with a crest of a flame on it._

 _Wyatt took a moment to look at the hat. Gage waited in anticipation as Wyatt pulled it up, placing the large cap on his little head. A chuckle escaped him though as he laughed, "Wyatt style!"_

 _He pulled the cap up, smiling at Gage, "I'll wear this every single day for the rest of my life! It's to remind 'ya how much of a loser you are! Every day!"_

 _"You have some growing to do..." Gage tilted his head._

 _"Eh, I'll make it work." Wyatt grinned._

 _That young southerner put a hand on Gage's shoulder, "No worries, Gagey Wagey, I forgive 'ya."_

 _For all the bitterness that surrounded their relationship, hearing that Wyatt forgave Gage brought deep relief to him. For once, they shared heartfelt smiles with each other._

* * *

"Every day..." Gage whispered. To this day Wyatt proudly wore the cap like a crown. Of course, it fit him much better now.

As the nurses cheered at an improved heartbeat, Gage smiled warmly on one of the few moments of friendship they shared as children.

"Sir, his heartbeat is even, but it's a little lower than preferred." A nurse reported.

Doctor Anthony sighed, "Okay, let's leave these kids alone for a while." The doctor looked at Gage, "We're only doing this because he insists. If his condition worsens at all, hit the emergency button. We'll be right in."

Gage nodded in understanding. In a quick moment, the nurses checked his vitals one more time and they were suddenly alone. The respirator mask, the beeps of the monitors, and whirling of machinery. A long silence fell over the teens, and Gage felt too conflicted to dare step further into the room. Slowly, he placed one foot in front of the other. His thoughts ran in bitter sadness as he watched the line of the heart rate monitor. They were too young for this. They were far too young! Gage did not want to say goodbye to anyone, Wyatt was only fourteen. Yeah, there was a saying, "live fast and die young," but this was not Gage's kind of fast. Rhett briefly crossed his mind, _"Is anything fast enough for you, Gage? You know, buddy, you sometimes need to slow down to enjoy life, man."_ Gage's eyes flooded with tears. He never wanted it like _this_!

"'Yer faster than that," Wyatt finally called from the bed, through the oxygen mask, "Get over here."

Gage's eyes shot to the direction of the bed. The speedster quickly dried his brown eyes and walked over to the bed. Every cell screamed no, that this could not be happening. His heart could be heard pounding in his chest, he could hear time ticking away as the bomb counted down the time before it exploded. Upon seeing Wyatt, barely breathing, on the bed, he had to fight the urge to puke.

Despite his clammy skin looking of snow, he gave Gage one of his despicably confident smirks, "Hey."

Gage tried to smile back, "Hi..."

Wyatt sighed, taking hollow breathes, "Now I know what being hit by a locomotive feels like." While the southerner tried to laugh, he looked away with eyes that screamed of helplessness.

Gage's eyes grew misty again, "You'll make it. I believe in you, you can-"

"-I can't make it."

Well, now Gage knew what being hit by a locomotive felt like.

"Wh...wha-"

Wyatt winced as he said it, like it was physically painful to deliver the message, "I can't make it."

Gage's eyes fell upon the many IVs attached to machines. Liquids of many kinds, blood... Gage felt his own breathing slow, turning pale. "No..."

"I been bit by rattlesnakes eleven times," Wyatt whispered, "I know what close-to-death feels like..."

Gage's eyes widened, the small whisper ever so desperate. "No!"

Wyatt closed his eyes, a tear fell, "I let 'ya down, I'm sorry... I always let 'ya three down..."

Gage closed his eyes, "No, stop."

The respirator mask continued its course for another moment before Wyatt defied Gage's orders again, "Can you keep a secret?"

Gage's teary eyes slowly opened, "What?"

As always, Wyatt quickly became caught up in the drama, "Stop be'in' stupid and say yes! I need 'ta 'git this off-" A voice crumpled like thin paper, Wyatt coughed in a lack of air. As the heart rate monitor suddenly blasted in an increased heartbeat, Gage reached for the emergency button. Before he managed to hit it though, Wyatt shouted again, "Wait!"

Gage turned back to Wyatt, who watched him with more miserable eyes than what he ever saw during the road pirate incident. Gage suddenly realized what was happening. It was a life confession. Wyatt really did believe this was it. Gage shut his eyes, successfully fighting the tears as he pulled his hand away from the button. "Go on."

As Gage finally sat on the side of the bed, Wyatt regained his breath. His arm shook as he did so, but Wyatt reached for his messy jeans' side pocket. Out of it, he pulled out a small picture. It was turned face down, so Gage could not see it. As Wyatt's strength seemed spent just on retrieving the photo from his pocket, Gage spread his hand out and placed a finger on it.

"Go on," Wyatt rasped.

Gage took the picture. With the small paper in his hand, he turned it to see... somebody he never saw before. It was a young woman, a teenage girl with short, black hair. Green eyes shining with an endless energy, she beamed into the camera. She wore mostly black clothes, aside the bright yellow scarf wrapped incorrectly around her neck. She gave the camera a peace symbol. Confusion crossed Gage's face for a moment, before Wyatt explained. "That's my mum."

Gage gasped, taking a closer look at the picture. He could instantly see the family resemblance. Wyatt continued, "That was taken several years before she disappeared."

Gage looked at Wyatt again, "Disappeared?"

"She was nineteen, I think," he said, "When she had me. Who knows who dad was. But she left when I was still an infant. Left me with granny gram and went poof."

A sudden rage, long buried, crested Wyatt's eyes as he weakly gripped the bed cover. "Why would she do that?"

Gage wanted to say something, but went silent. Lost for words, he simply listened to Wyatt's ballad, "I knew it as long as I could remember, I was missing her. So why did she go? Always made me feel like I wasn't enough."

More anger seemed to burn, the violent star vibrating as mute flares burst out, dying as it began to grow to a red giant. " _Never_ enough. Aside my grandma, ev'ryone hated me. My aunt pulled 'ma hair when I was three 'fir no reason. I was obsessed with mamma for a majority of time until I started school. Then I became obsessed with attention and was an attention 'seekin jerk. If I wasn't enough 'fir them, maybe I'd find somebody else... and I sure did."

A soft laugh, drawn through a weakened throat, was followed by a knowing smile, "Found three somebodies."

Gage closed his eyes again, Wyatt continued in a more lighthearted tone. "Okay, no more boring back story! Cause I ain't got no good one. Not even good recent history. I'm still a mess..."

Gage opened his eyes, watching Wyatt as he scoffed at himself, "A majority of my life I lived a lie. I was a selfish borderliner who couldn't see far enough to notice better. It t-took the wors-t day of my life to..."

Once again, the road pirate incident came across Gage's mind.

 _"You guys are so awesome... I feel like I'm not good enough for the team. I feel like I have to prove it."_

 _"You don't have to prove anything to us, Wyatt."_

Gage finally started tearing up again, "Wyatt..."

"Like," Wyatt whispered, "I was wrong this whole time. Always was you who proved me wrong. Since then still continue to pro-" Too much energy spent on talk, another coughing fit hit him.

As the stuntman coughed, Gage reached and pulled him into a sitting position, hoping it would somehow help. Holding the shaking boy up, Gage finally felt the tears sliding down his face.

"I'm sorry." Wyatt finally calmed down. The monitors raring in the background, he pushed on the best he could, "I know I hurt you all. I'm so sorry, never wanted to make you-" another massive cough escaped him; blood hit the inside of the mask, "- suff-"

"-Wyatt," Gage shook his head, "I have to call the-"

"-I'm apolomagizing!" Wyatt shouted before he coughed again. He shivered as he spoke, "I'm so sorr- you and Brandon and Rhett aren't her! I'm sorry! I'm sorry- sorr-"

A sob escaped Gage as he watched him cough up blood again. Vision blurred by his tears, barely noticing the red in the foggy mask, Gage responded. "Forget apologizing, we forgave you long ago."

Before Wyatt could retort, Gage tugged his former rival close, pulling him into a deep hug. Suddenly, the heart rate monitor sped way up before... it dropped to a much healthier pace. Too weak to hug back, Wyatt at least rested his head on his shoulder. Gage held him close as he spoke, "We're all sick, one way or the other. We've all been there. Believe me," Gage opened his eyes, watching the emergency button just waiting to be pushed, "I've arrived here myself."

Reminding himself not to rush, despite racing worries, he cherished what was their first heartfelt hug ever, "I never took time for anything, breaking empty records aside. And now I'm losing you..."

Gage himself did not notice Wyatt's strengthening heartbeat, despite the blood trickling from his mouth.

"Please," Gage whispered, "You said you can't, but please? You're a fighter. You're better than this. You can make it!" Another sob burst from his back, "I hated you for the longest time, but since the team started, I- ..." Eyes closed, a rare vulnerability fell through his throat; a desperate tone so unfamiliar it could chill, "Wyatt, I need you. Stay..."

After a long moment, such a long moment occupied by both their tears, Wyatt raised a shaking arm and returned the hug. A new found sturdiness in his voice, that usual desert passion burned through, "I promise."

Gage opened his oak eyes. His hand had subconsciously hovering over the emergency button. The other hand still was holding Wyatt's picture. Eyes narrowed in determination, Gage slammed the button.

"Here 'ya go again," Wyatt whispered, "Proving me wrong again. Second wind."

As the doors slammed open, doctors returning in dismay, Wyatt wheezed again before repeating a line from what seemed so long ago, "Just so you know, this hug means nothing to me, _Gage_."

"Oh, are we hugging?" Gage responded, "I didn't even notice..." He closed his eyes, giving him a quick squeeze, " _Wyatt_."

With that, Gage hastily let go, letting doctor Anthony take another look. "He's coughing blood!"

Knowing he would just be in the way, the red light flashing, Gage ran to the door. Before leaving though, the teary, young leader looked over his shoulder one more time.

Through the chaos, between a respirator mask change, Wyatt maintained eye contact and managed a genuine smile.

It was enough to make Gage smile in response.

Gage left the room. Wyatt was going to make it out alive, he trusted him. Oh, how much Gage had grown to trust and care about him. It was a bond like family. And family always stuck up for each other.

 _"Most importantly, you need each other."_

"We do, Larry," Gage's eyes fell beyond the waiting room's window, into a purple sunset. Still grasping the picture of Wyatt's mother, he dried his eyes on his sleeve, "We always do..."

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **That terrible moment you realize you got something wrong in the canon while writing the entire time… In Skills to Thrill, they showed that Gage's eyes are green! I've been writing that they're brown. Dang it. Well, I already wrote this entire fanfic, so I'm not editing this time. For the next installment though, Discord, I'm changing Gage's eye color. And Wyatt's. I don't want any two members of the team to have the same eye color.**

 **This chapter itself in kind of the "Brothers" chapter of Gage and Wyatt. Poor Wyatt. Poor Gagey Wagey. Wanted to show how they've come in their relationship and how they're close friends. Once again, I had to bring in the family dynamics of this entire team. That entire team is like its own, dysfunctional family in my eyes. Larry is the fatherly figure, the boys are the four kids, we've got family pets like Rollie. Jerry and Mary are the uncle and aunt? Dunno… and what on earth is Monkey in this bunch? I'm caught between another pet and the baby sibling. We've only seen one movie with him so far.**

 **Eh, hopefully a fourth movie will come out soon and flesh out Monkey's spot on the team.**

 **I had a lot of fun writing the flashback, and I… is enjoy even the right word? … liked writing the rest of this too. Origin of Awesome references!**

 **~ Ashla**


	17. Chapter XVII - Nightfall

Emerging from the restroom, Brandon looked around for his leader. Before his leader ever made himself known though, his phone did. Immediately, Brandon whipped the phone out and instinctively checked it. It was a text from Gage's mom, all capped.

 _"WHERE ARE YOU?!"_

Brandon rolled his eyes, _Gage has a mature parent..._

"Brand-oh?"

Brandon looked up to see Gage right in front of him. There was a light behind his eyes that said he had cried. Confusion crossed Brandon's own blue orbs, but he spoke, "Your mom's wondering where you are."

Gage's eyes instantly dilated, "My mom!"

Without even taking his phone back, an always hasty Gage raced out like a high tailed cat. Brandon took another look at Gage's phone before locking it and putting it in his back pocket.

Alone, in the waiting room hall, Brandon finally breathed. At last, the surrounding world was visible to him. The white walls, dark azure floors... Brandon took several steps into the nearest waiting room, which was the same as every other in the building. A sigh escaped a dreary Brandon's mouth. As he took notice of the gloomy clouds outside, Brandon sat down on one of the cushioned (yet still uncomfortable as Larry's couch) seats and curled up. Finally, his mind slowed, and he realized how tired he was. It had certainly been an eventful day amongst eventful days. This was totally taking place of March 28th as the worst day of his entire life!

His eyes were coated in shame. Sure, he turned down the job position that got them all here. However, even if Gage believed in the team's bond, Brandon needed his fellow teammates' words that he would be accepted back. Let alone, he needed to know they would be alive as a whole. While doubt in himself polluted his own mind, as rain started playing a mellow song on the window, he realized how much he trusted them.

They would recover.

Brandon closed his heavy lids, feeling his head and chest churn light as sleep instantly threatened to take the huddled boy away. He did not know how long his eyes stayed closed, but feeling like he was flying lasted anywhere from a second to a million years. Who knew? When he heard his name called out again though, his body and mind seem to get in line with each other again. He felt a hand on his shoulder. Clouded eyes opened.

"Brandon, dear?"

Brandon lifted his head from his knees. He was still hugging himself, but when he saw who it was he straightened up a little.

"Mrs. Rowan!"

Yup. That was Rhett's mom alright.

* * *

As Gage skidded to a halt in front of his car, he panted heavily. Still unable to find his mom - especially without a cellphone to call her - he had run out to his car hoping that he would find her there. Rain drizzling down from a purple sky though, Gage was left disappointed.

Nothing. Ziltch. Nada.

"Hey, Green."

A very familiar and sinister voice marked the surprise introduction of...

Just at the other side of the car, the silver driver was watching him in full uniform.

Adrenaline burst through Gage's system, all alarms blazing code red and all sirens breaking the sound barrier. Eyes wide in a multitude of sudden emotions, Gage shouted, "You!"

Without any form of warning, all other thoughts were tossed out of the window as Gage immediately started chasing him. As Gage tried to catch him, an also adept runner turned tail and ran, leading Gage outside the parking lot.

* * *

Mrs. Rowan sat down next to Brandon. She looked just as discombobulated, with overdone makeup and messy hair, as ever.

She watched Brandon with somber eyes, "Rhett hasn't been to the ER since our car accident. He was a toddler then, adorable and bright little munchkin. When he had that concussion, they said either his personality or intelligence would be affected. Of course, he changed from confident and explorative to quiet and shy in an instant. It was a heavy blow, because he withdrew and even stopped talking. For his age he already had a lisp, but going into elementary school it was still there. And while Rhett was, beyond a doubt, very sharp and intelligent, he had become... eccentric... Even showed signs of being schizotypal."

Brandon looked back on Rhett back then. He totally was eccentric, still was today. While Brandon was no physiologist, as the LeBay's held the popular opinion that it was not proper science, Brandon thought it over and doubted the schizo part. None the less, despise being energetic and outgoing, Rhett was always - and still was - extremely socially awkward, especially when meeting someone new. Not to mention how aloof and outright odd he was. He even seemed somewhat detached from reality as a whole, making otherwise stupid mistakes and mixing common knowledge up. As he looked back on him though, Brandon felt he needed those horrid puns and outrageously backed conversations of weird ideologies back.

Brandon sighed, turning his head away from her gaze. "Ma'am," Brandon miserably started, "It is my fault your son is here. I was the one who lef-"

"-Brandon, sweety, look at me."

Brandon only shut his eyes, mumbling, "I can't..."

"Brandon, Look at me-"

"-I can't!" Brandon screamed.

While completely unaware of the sudden attention his cry had caught from any others in the room, Brandon heard her get up. She placed her hands on his shoulder. He recoiled, but her hands stayed on him.

"Brandon, what is your job profession?"

An extremely unpredictable move, this alone caught Brandon's eyes to flash wide. He turned and looked at Rowan, "Wu..."

"What's your job profession?" Amusement spread across Rowan's voice as she asked again.

As usual, Brandon answered any questions asked sharply, "I'm a fourth of Team Hot Wheels. I'm the team scientist and medic."

Rowan nodded, "I know that, Brandon, but that's not what I was asking. Allow me to ask with more clarity."

Brandon raised a confused eyebrow as she spoke, "What is your team classified as legally, and what does it make you?"

More confusion than ever on the direction of this conversation was visible on Brandon's face, but he still responded, "We're... a special law enforcement unit. That makes me a law enforcement officer."

A smile spread across Rowan's face, "Exactly."

Rowan stood up, taking her hands off Brandon and simply watching him. "How long has your team been active now?"

"About a year." Brandon replied.

Rowan nodded, "I see... Brandon, you and your team, my son included, have come across various forms of danger in the past. I remember the DORC units we all loved, and the monstrosity it all became. Brandon, LeBay, as a person whose responsibility is to uphold the law, every day your life is at risk for your town. You all made the sacrifice, and for a year this once depressed and crumbling town has enjoyed a golden age."

Brandon did not utter a word as she continued, "It's been a year since you started, right? ... I'm surprised a heavy blow like this hasn't hit your team before now."

Brandon was now submerged in thoughts surrounding what she said. When the team first started, none of them even seemed to be thinking that way. There was this fantasy all running through their minds. They were awesome, they had awesome cars, and were whooping bad guy butt. Thing was, they never even looked at it as this... responsibility. They always knew it was their city to protect, but never before had this message come so clear to them. It hit the hammer on the nail.

Rowan smiled sadly at Brandon, "My husband was in the military for how many years, believe me, this is not the first time I've waited on a loved one's condition after a fight."

She pulled her red hair behind her back, tears forming in her eyes as she closed. "Quite frankly, I don't care who's fault this is. And take it from his mom, Rhett won't care either. His father was neglectful, I never am home, but he's so quick to forgive."

As the rain continued the drum on the windows, she spoke one final time, "Would you do one favor for me, hun?"

Brandon was confused on a cynical level, but nodded, "Sure."

Rowan sighed, "I have a night shift starting in thirty minutes. I hate doing this, but I can't stay here. I already took care of what needs done with the doctors and information and stuff, but if Rhett, you know, wakes up, would you be there? He'll need a familiar face if he suddenly finds himself in an unfamiliar place."

Face hardened in loyalty, Brandon nodded, "Yes, ma'am."

Rowan smiled, "Thank you, dear."

With that, she turned and walked away.

After she left, a still insecure Brandon moaned in worry...

"Brandon no likie."

* * *

It was still raining, but like either of them cared.

Through the streets of the city they ran. Down the common roads, across the purple stained sidewalks. A city that had seen both glory and ruin, the flashing lights and bustling people were all a blur as Gage raced after the silver driver. Pedestrians shouted as the teenage boys shoved through crowds. While the initial adrenaline rush had given Gage a good starting spurt, he was panting heavily now. Silver also was losing his stamina; his footsteps were sloppy. Silver knew where he was going through, slipping into the shadows of the alleyways and sewers, he was closely followed by Gage, who maintained solid speed.

At last, running far enough from any major human populated area, Silver turned a corner, into a shaded alley. Of course, Gage blindly followed.

While Gage skidded to a halt at the end, where moonlight dimly lit his eyesight, Silver was close to a dead end, iron fence. Silver turned to face Gage, covered in shadow.

Even if Silver's helmet was on, the opponents still glared.

After a moment of catching his breath, Gage spoke, "What are you doing?"

Silver shrugged, "Destroying the world one victim a time."

As his close friends, all suffering thanks to his doings, crossed Gage's mind, he shook his head in disbelief, "Why?"

Silver tilted his head, "Finally! I thought no one would ever ask."

Gage raised an eyebrow. Silver leaned on his side, "You're a lucky person, Gage Green. You live a good life. You have two loving parents, loyal friends, one of the sweetest jobs ever... I never had that."

Silver pulled his visor up, finally giving Gage a look at his face. It was slightly swollen from the beating he got from Brandon, bruises scattered. Eye narrowed in exhaustion, he spat on the ground, "I was born in dust and ashes, poor as my parents were. They gladly handed me over to a richer person, someone who should have taken care of me be better than they. Instead, he was really a mad scientist. I was experimented on for about a year before he was caught, blamed it on somebody else, and I went into the beautiful world of foster care. My parents had died off by then, really had no choice."

Silver crossed his arms, continuing his tale, "There was something different about me. When could science... change someone like that?" Amethyst eyes glared into oak, "I can't read minds, but I can certainly tell what someone is experiencing through simply looking into their eyes. Extreme empathy, apparently. I can even predict their next actions this way, judging their emotions, personality, and twisted human nature."

Silver smirked, "And I can do it fast." As he snapped a finger, he chuckled, "Whenever I watched anybody, they felt like by just looking at them I was invading them or something. I hate people, 'cause nobody ever cared. Quite frankly, I never cared for them either."

"Well, when my mentor found me, it was a whole new world." Silver took a step forward, "He has a long history with the one who experimented on me, he has a plan for vengeance. I quickly joined him."

The silver driver removed his helmet, his blond hair slightly rustling in the wind. "I hate people. Hate them. What's the hope in people with the same selfish evil? The best option is to wipe them all out."

* * *

Brandon felt somebody shaking him. Curled up on the chair, he had fallen asleep waiting so long. He was thirsty, had to use the restroom, was extremely uncomfortable in this chair, and was overall just feeling blah. He opened his eyes. For a moment, it was pitch dark, but then his vision adjusted. He saw a surprised looking doctor, "Kid, you've been here for hours."

Brandon moaned as he pulled himself into a sitting position, "What time is it?"

The doctor shook his head, the young brunette looking exhausted himself, "Kid, it's one o'clock in the blessed a.m."

Brandon cracked his neck, yawning, "That late?"

"You're the only one still in the waiting room." He responded.

Brandon looked around. Indeed, he was. Thing was, he was waiting for a reason. "Can I ask something?"

The doctor shrugged, "It's my job, I have to answer."

Brandon liked this guy, "Room 122 was it? It'd like to know how the patient's doing."

"I'm his doctor," the man responded without much personality or care, "What luck."

Brandon's eye lit up in excitement, "Is Rhett okay?"

"The oppression was successful, he'll be fine, no funerals anytime soon, you can cut the waterworks, I'm so tired of emotional families..." The doctor seemed to be going through the motions.

Brandon rubbed his neck, "Is he awake?"

He shrugged, "Woke up about fifteen minutes ago. Only his immediate family is allowed to vis-"

"-Can I visit him?" Brandon stood up.

The doctor slumped, "I'm too tired to argue. Go ahead."

Brandon instantly ran out of the waiting room, towards Rhett, before either the doctor or his inner unrest could change his mind.

* * *

Gage narrowed his eyes, "What makes you say that? Why kill everybody? You're insane!"

Gage threw his fists in anger, "There's innocent people out there! They never did anything to you!"

Silver just laughed. A dark cackle erupted as his sides shook, "Nobody's innocent! We all did some form of wrong. We all hurt people, we all have the potential to destroy. _You_ have the potential to destroy... one of the highest potentials."

Gage huffed in shock, "What?"

Silver smiled sickly at Gage, "You're lucky, Gage Green, but even you won't get away for much longer. You're more entangled in this than you ever realized, and you're destined to become the worst of it."

Gage's fists tightened more, sweat collecting even while freezing rain crashed down on them. "You are sick. Stop it! I'll never be like you!"

Silver rolled his eyes, "Oh, you'll never be like me, not awesome enough. But once again, you have a larger part to play than you realize."

Gage scoffed, crossing his arms, "Oh yeah? I'm the leader of the team that _will_ end you. You think I don't know?"

Silver raised a knowing eyebrow, "Oh, not like that..."

Confusion crossed Gage's oak eyes as Silver smirked. Suddenly, the sound of... some crashing, or something... caused both teens to raise their heads in alert.

Silver looked up to the rooftops, "We're not alone..."

Gage looked anxiously around the darkness of the night. Under a clouded sky, the odds of finding the surprise guest was small.

"Just know this, Green!" Gage's attention snapped back to the silver driver. Suddenly, he was a lot more serious in tone. He raised a fist, shaking it. "This is just the beginning of something huge! I'm not the only one, even if you end me, you'll never end them. We're victims of atrocity, and we shall be avenged!"

He threw his arms, his helmet crashing to the ground, "We're all pawns in something huge! _You_ are a petty, little pawn. Like I care, I've been used my entire life. As long as he reaches our goal, mark my words! You'll all pay! Cross my heart and hope to-"

A gunshot was fired out of nowhere.

Through the shadows, Gage barely caught the moment. Shot in the head, Silver instantly went limp. His body crashed onto the asphalt pavement. Amongst the blue puddles, one red puddle formed. Gage's eyes widened, realizing a moment it had happened what had happened.

Gage instantly vomited onto the ground, hands on his knees as he started shaking. A long moment, Gage pulled his head up, alert over a third, armed person out there.

Yet, when he looked up awaiting more gunshots, he was shocked... the silver driver's body was gone without a trace. He rubbed his eyes and looked again, "What?"

Silence.

Whoever had shot him had abducted the body and vanished.

It felt like a horror movie. Adrenaline release gone, Gage crashed under basically everything. The haunting words revolved in his mind like a hurricane, the sudden twist in events too much to process quickly. Gage fell to his knees, finally pushed over his breaking point.

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **Wow. I just made a character die! Dark writing! Why am I so happy I did that?**

 **Yeah, I chuckled sneaking in Brandon's catchphrase.**

 **I wanted to write somewhere in this fanfiction that the team has a serious job on their hands, and that being like superheroes and saving the city ain't just fun and games. Seriously, that's a pretty big responsibility and they let _kids_ do it. Yeah, we got the Teen Titans and Young Justice guys (I love both shows, btw - but totally not TTG!) going too, but still. A theme I'm trying to portray in this fanfic is mentally and emotionally maturing, growing up. This chapter is the first time I think I got that theme across.**

 **Oh, and once again, poor Gagey Wagey xD Wow, I just left our main character scarred for life... Hooray for me (sarcasm)!**


	18. Chapter XVIII - Aftermath

So much for acting before the inner struggle got in the way.

Brandon stood just outside the door. The butterflies in his stomach were flying around like locusts eagerly feasting on a harvest. All he wanted to do now was turn and run.

"It's one in the morning, maybe he fell back asleep..."

Brandon awkwardly shifted between his two feet, biting his lip. As terrified as he, oh how terrified he was, of going into that room, he knew better. Rhett's mother had asked him to do this, and he had just learned about the costs and running from his problems. He was sick and tired of running. He was going in there.

Fists tightened, LeBay gulped heavily. He sighed, releasing his inner strife and stress. Building up courage, he reached and knocked on the door.

"Come in?"

Hearing his voice alone made Brandon take a step back, but he held himself. Closing his eyes, he opened the door... a little.

Azure eyes peeked through the door. The lights were on, since Rhett was awake, and oh there was Rhett. Sitting up on the bed, he was looking outside the window. Despite having apparently just come out of surgery, he had a plain white t-shirt and black pants on. He skin was several shades lighter, even for a redhead, and his hair was a mess. Hazel eyes shifted from the window to the door.

They made eye contact a lot sooner than Brandon was prepared for.

For a moment, Brandon felt faint, but he had come at least a little far. A nervous smile crossed the blond's face for a moment, he spoke, "Hi."

Rhett watched with a naturally puzzled face, Brandon walked into the room and closed the door behind them. This room was an absolute disaster, various chords just laying on the white floor. Hospital equipment not even used were shoved into corners. Still, the seats were clear and Brandon sat on the closest one the exit. Nervous as a twitch, he did not want this become another long silence, but for all his grief he was lost on how to even start.

Brandon let out another sigh, once again receiving stress, and just started, "Okay, I hate when stuff drags out, so I'm going to cut to the chase."

Rhett tilted his head in confusion, breathing slightly slowed.

"I was an idiot." Brandon started, "I was being a selfish jerk and I ran from all my problems instead of facing them. I pushed everyone I should of turned to away, you most of all. I honestly never felt so sick in my life, and I apologize for being a fool. I'm sorry."

Rhett looked away from Brandon, towards the wall, lost in thought. Once again, threats of dragging silence seemed on the horizon. However, it was only several seconds after that Rhett replied, "Prove it."

As much as he still felt hurt by the hesitance, Brandon could not blame him. Damage was the strong word, and it perfectly described what Brandon managed to do to him. No wonder Rhett was in a state of doubt. One problem though, how could Brandon prove he meant what he said. The saying was, actions spoke louder than words. But what actions were at Brandon's disposal? Yeah, he had turned down that job, but he needed more than that. What though? Some kind of pledge of allegiance?

Then, it hit him.

An act of selflessness at least on introverted Brandon's terms, he stood up and walked up to Rhett. Without hesitation, he did something he'd sworn numerous times he'd never do. _He hugged somebody_.

Rhett stiffened in surprise. Indeed, Brandon's massive personal space bubble was so huge, he didn't exactly even know how to hug. It was stiff and awkward, but Brandon was trying over here. After a moment, he felt Rhett relax.

"Nope, not good enough."

Brandon yanked himself away in shock… then saw that insolent grin on his face. Rhett smirked, "Nah, that was great!"

"You punk!" Brandon hit his arm.

Rhett just started laughing. That lighthearted, usual laugh and joyful smile letting Brandon know all was forgiven - after the prank, of course. For the temporary anger built up from the slightly cruel joke; relief was washing over Brandon like the desperately cold drink after a blistering hot day. For everything that had transpired in the last two weeks, Rhett's laughter and innocence now caused Brandon to smile warmly.

In that moment, he knew everything was going to be okay.

* * *

The rain had stopped, but it was soaking wet. As rainwater dripped off buildings, trash cans, and pipes, Gage slowly made way through the empty streets of the night. As bugs flew around the dull light poles, Gage's jacket, muddy from dragging on the ground, was barely on one of Gage's arms. As it dragged, Gage watched the sidewalk ahead in vast confusion and mental chaos. He hardly heard the car pulling up behind him until he heard a familiar voice call.

"Gage!" Gwen Green called in shock and confusion from her green car.

Gage stopped, stepping into a puddle. He turned to face her, eyes bloodshot and outfit dirtied. Instantly, his mother extended her arms to him, "Sweetie..."

Gage's jacket slipped to the ground in his sudden burst of movement. He ran straight into her arms, starting to cry. His mother hugged him back, sighing sadly. Sure, he was the law enforcing protector of the city. Sure, he was a well-respected leader even by his peers. Sure, he was a hero... but she knew better than anybody that he was still but a child. He never should of gone through the things he had today. She hugged him, "Your dad and I have been looking everywhere..."

She pulled him to the car, placing her hand on the boy's shoulder, "You're filthy. Come on, let's get you cleaned up."

As they got into the car and left, neither caught the amber eyes watching from the shadows of an alley.

* * *

The sound of the breathing respirator working to keep him alive was accompanied with the beeping of medical equipment. Hooked up to various IV's, despite his troubled state Wyatt actually looked so peaceful. The heart monitor was a worry, but the slow heartbeat was due to only him slipping into comatose. Yes, he was alive, but the fight had exhausted him so much. Now in an extremely deep sleep that could try to recover his own strength, he was not alone in the room.

Elderly hands held his own. Through her glasses, her eyes were shaded with worry over her fallen grandson. He was usually so lively and energetic, even in his sleep he tossed and turned a lot. Now, he was icily still. It was like all there was of a shining star was its white dwarf skeleton - he seemed so frail, he looked like bone. However, even the darkness of a solar eclipse could not last forever. As she rubbed his skin with her thumb, she knew he was going to make it.

At the other side of the room, watching the yellow tanagers fly outside, Belinda hardly seemed to care. If anything, she seemed annoyed. In a tone so low she would not be heard, she mumbled, "Just like his mother..."

She pushed herself off the wall she was leaning on, walking towards her mother, "Don't worry yourself, mother, he'll be okay. But we have to leave now, you've been here for a while."

After a moment of thought, the elder woman nodded slowly. She squeezed his hands, those snow white, cold hands. She whispered in instinctively response, "Gammy Gram loves you too."

With that, she got up from the seat she had been on. Belinda put the chair back and assisted, guiding her aged mother out of the room. As they left, nothing changed. Everything from breathing patterns to chances of awakening stayed the same.

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **Aaaaaand this is the last chapter**

 **With all the dragged out, emotional stuff going on in this story, I wanted Brandon and Rhett's scene to be more short and sweet. They cut to the heart of the matter, there's a heartfelt sibling hug, a joke is cracked, and everything's good. Now, Brandon's problems aren't completely gone, and I look forward to exploring how they both generally behave coming out of this, so it's not like all of Brandon's problems are solved…**

 **I decided on Gage's scene following Brandon and Rhett's for a reason. Gage is the main character of the movies, and in the second part of the fanfic, _Discord_ , he'll be the main character again. I wanted to show a shift between Brandon, who's now seen resolution to several of his problems, to Gage who has his own just beginning.**

 **! I have Wyatt's scene done last, so the fanfic started with him waking up and ended with him sleeping. xD**

 **I've already started on _Discord_ , but I'm thinking of re-writing at least chapter one (I'm halfway through chapter two, I like that one) because it sets off the story in a way that I didn't want. Either way, the sequel is in the works!**

 **I hope you all have liked my story this far, and stay tuned for the next installment!**

 **~ Ashla.**


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